


No More Heroes

by PurplePatchwork



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Crimes & Criminals, Drama & Romance, Dubious Morality, M/M, Some Humor, Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-28 15:19:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 23,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5095502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurplePatchwork/pseuds/PurplePatchwork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a new villain comes to the city, Alfred the hero will learn that the distinction between good and bad is not as clear as he always thought it to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_What if_  
_One particular nonspecific day_  
 _Black and White fell in love_  
 _And together became grey?_  
 _-Yours truly_

* * *

They say heroes aren’t born, they’re made. If that were true, Ivan had yet to meet a real hero.

They were all the same, no matter where he came, no matter who he encountered. Loud and over-confident, whores for fame and praise, always getting in his way. These self-proclaimed fighters of evil were no better than the wrongdoers they chased.

Ivan didn’t hate them. Pitied them, perhaps, looked down on them with a mocking superiority. Because unlike them, he didn’t let his vision be clouded by the thought that he was doing good. He knew he wasn’t, didn’t even try to pretend. He didn’t cower behind a veil of ‘justice’ when he punished a criminal. There was blood on his hands, and he had no one but himself to blame. Still he continued his task, because those heroes couldn’t be trusted with it. It was something he himself needed to do, something he didn’t need any help for.

Town after town chased him out, leaving him unable to find satisfaction. They never caught him, never were smart enough to drive him out of hiding and bring him to jail. He was too slick and slippery, had too many connections helping him hide in the shadows after crossing yet another name of his unending list.

He went by many names himself; from Winter to the Icy Death to the Devil himself. Silly, pitiable heroes, seeing him as just another evil mastermind to conquer.

That is what finally brought him to that one, specific city. The place that would change his life of crime for good.

The place where he met someone who could be convinced, and in turn, satisfy his hunger.

There where bad became good, where wrong became right, where the lines of morality were forever blurred.


	2. Of Beasts And Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There are no heroes and there are no villains. There are just opposing points of view. That's all history is...the viciously long battle between world views.”  
> -Peter J. Tomasi

Alfred looked out over the sleeping city, watching cars pass by the high buildings like little ants with headlights. He sighed, puffing his chest out when a rush of pride overwhelmed him. This was his city, the one place he would defend with his life. After all, that was a hero’s duty! By day, he was Alfred F. Jones, member of the local gym, part-time barista and college student. But by night, he was the Iron Eagle (the townsfolk had conjured up that name for him, and Alfred had swiftly taken a liking to it). Protecting the innocent from harm, keeping the city free from crime. Or, almost free, at least. Of course, there were always the petty thieves who thought they could outsmart him. And of course, just like every coin has two sides, this hero also had an arch nemesis.

Alfred narrowed his eyes when he recalled the arrival of his latest opponent. Before him there had been the albino, Mr Awesome, that grumpy Brit who called himself The Queen’s Guard, and the Dane, The Vexing Viking. That name had always made Alfred chuckle. His new supervillain however, hadn’t given out his name yet. Alfred knew he was out there, hiding, plotting. They hadn’t met, but he’d read all about him in the news. A bear of a man slaughtering tons of people wherever he came, killing them all with a brutal strike to the head by a leaden pipe. Some said he was otherworldly, but Alfred knew better. It was just another poser, like all those before him, just another plain failure who craved for revenge, or money, or world dominance. Alfred wouldn’t allow him to have it.

A cry of help reached his sensitive ears. A damsel in distress! Alfred stood up, smiling. Time for the Iron Eagle to come to the rescue! He leapt off the roof, spreading his self-made wings right before hitting the ground. Alfred glided over the zooming cars, ignoring their honks and cheers. The citizens were already used to his heroic antics, no longer startled when they saw a sole figure sore through the sky. Alfred quickly arrived at the crime scene, mind focused intently on the task at hand.

A woman stood cowering against the wall, her hand weakly clutching the necklace draped around her slender neck. Before her stood a giant, and even though Alfred only had a view of his broad back, he knew exactly who he was dealing with. A wide trench coat, snowy hair that shone platinum under the light of a street lantern, a scarf ever-present around his neck. It was the newcomer, the one who had committed so many crimes his name reached the front page of the newspapers.

Alfred cleared his throat and spoke up. “Hey! Leave her alone! I command you, as the protector of this city, to drop your weapon and turn around, hands on your head!”

The giant paused. Alfred held his breath as the other slowly turned around, neither letting go of his faucet nor making any visible attempt at attacking Alfred. Then finally, for the first time ever, the young American got the chance to look into his eyes. And once he did, the memory was forever scorched into his senses. Those eyes, they were, they were not human. Nearly glowing in the dark, they could have been mistaken for an odd blue by those who had bad sight. But to Alfred, they were a vibrant violet, a purple hue both luminescent and mesmerizing, as if those lovely eyes could catch fire purely due to the intensity with which they stared directly into Alfred’s electric blues.

“D-drop your weapon!” Alfred repeated, blinking to compose himself. He had to remember his mission, to save that poor woman from being killed. Even if the other seemed… mildly interesting.

His opponent finally straightened his back, making Alfred realize just how tall he truly was. “And why would I do that?” he spoke, words rolling off his tongue in a foreign rumble, the accented vowels sending shivers down Alfred’s spine. The young teen took a hold of his belt, in which he had hidden his own weapons. Alfred had at his disposal a gun, which he only used when all hope was lost, and two heavy boxing gloves, modified in such a way that brick walls were at their mercy. If his newest arch nemesis was going to play it dirty, he had his own few tricks up his sleeve.

“Because you’re the bad guy, and it’s my duty to dispose of scumbags like you!” came Alfred’s fierce reply, his eyes shining early victory.

The other chuckled, as if Alfred had said something funny. Then, in one swift movement, faster than the eye could see, he drew his arm back and bashed the woman’s skull in. It was a clean swipe, leaving no blood or cuts in its wake. Yet she was dead the moment the pipe connected with her head, and she sagged to the ground like a rag doll faster than Alfred could say “shit.”

He didn’t take long to gape at her body, refocusing his attention on the killer. Alfred pulled out his gloves and put them on, taking on a more threatening stance. “Okay asshole, that’s it. You put that thing down right now, or I’m knocking your head clean off.”

The giant had the audacity to whistle a jolly tune as he inspected his faucet, before neatly tucking it away into his coat. “Ivan Braginsky.”

“W-what?”

“That is my name. When two strangers meet, it is proper manners to introduce yourself, right?” Ivan actually smiled at that, extending a gloved hand. Alfred stared at it for a moment, as if the hand had somehow deeply offended him. Then he glanced up.“You’re insane.”

“Nyet. I am polite.”

Alfred growled. “I ain’t playing any games with you! You just killed that woman, and you expect me to shake hands with you and act like nothing happened?!”

“Oh, her?” Ivan looked behind him, expression souring. “She deserved that.”

“Like hell she did-”

“Da. You see, if a woman steals the money from those who trust her without batting an eye, if a woman threatens their children that if they ever tell on her she’ll kill them, if a woman performs such despicable acts I am not even going to discuss them with you, then yes, they do deserve death. They deserve to be punished. And since I am the only other knowing of her crimes, I have taken that task upon me.”

Alfred eyed him with suspicion. Was what he said true? How did he know all that? But, even if it were true, did that bastard really believe that gave him the right to kill her? “You’re lying.”

“Nyet. I have seen it happen with my own eyes. You see, being a newcomer has its advantages. No one knows your name, no one knows about your connections, no one suspects you to observe them. It seems I am better at discovering true crime than you are, ‘Iron Eagle’.”

Alfred scowled at that, hands tightening to fists inside the gloves. He wanted to punch that smug smile straight off of Ivan’s face, but was able to stop himself from acting on those impulses. “You don’t have the right to proclaim yourself a judge of other’s crimes. Killing a killer makes you just as bad, if what you said is true at all.”

Ivan’s smile only grew as he redirected his attention at Alfred’s near murderous expression. “Does that not make you equally as bad?”

That one, simple sentence threw Alfred off-balance. Him, bad? No, that couldn’t be true. He was the Iron Eagle, protector of the innocent! Ivan was just making things up.

Ivan kept smiling while the young American let out a loud, humourless laugh. “And what makes you think I’m bad? What, for punishing a few criminals? And I’m talking real criminals, not just some random women who might or might not have done some things- don’t think I’m going to believe you without any proof.”

The giant began stalking closer to him, Alfred taking a step forward as a warning. “Oh, but if I am a bad guy, then so are you, mister Iron Eagle. You have killed far more than I would ever dream of. Brought people to jail for small robberies, or sometimes even for mere misunderstandings. You have the blood of the innocent dripping from your fingers, and yet you dare call me the killer.”

The world started spinning around him. No- no, Ivan was wrong. He only punished those who truly deserved it. He had a clean record, there wasn’t any blood on his hands. Ivan was wrong. Who was he to, to… Then again, who was Alfred? If, if Ivan wasn’t allowed to punish those he thought had done wrong, then why would Alfred have the right to… He shook his head, clearing his mind of all those unwanted thoughts. No. He shouldn’t let his newest arch nemesis persuade him so easily. That simply wouldn’t do.

Talking about Ivan… The young American gasped for breath once he looked up, saw the other looming over his smaller figure. Before he could react, the foreigner had grabbed him by the collar and lifted him clean off the ground, leaving his feet kicking helplessly at the empty air. “Let- let go of me!” he wheezed, grasping Ivan’s shoulders in an attempt to push him off.

Ivan’s face was then much, much too close. Those oddly coloured eyes staring directly into his own, as if they could somehow look straight into the very core of his being.

“Silly, silly American. You just keep telling yourself that your intentions are pure, that you have never committed a single crime. That killing in the name of the law is righteous. Da, that means I am in the wrong as well. But at least I can accept my flaws.”

Alfred spat in his face. This took Ivan by surprise, making him blind to the fist swinging right at his face. Ivan let out a loud groan as the glove collided with his cheek, nearly knocking him unconscious. Alfred yelped when the other slung him to the ground, the air temporarily knocked out of him once he collided with the pavement. The tanned teen gasped for air while his assaulter lifted himself off the ground, slowly, so as not to further hurt his aching skull. Ivan no longer smiled, yet the glint in his eyes told Alfred they weren’t through. “I await our next meeting.”

It was only then that Alfred heard the whirring of a helicopter, and he cursed when a rope ladder appeared right next to the Russian. Ivan gave a little wave, changed his mind, and blew a kiss towards the grumbling hero.

“Do svidanya, Iron Eagle! And think about what I told you!” And with those words he was gone, leaving Alfred to shout profanities after the disappearing aircraft. Once he no longer heard the wop-wop-wop of the helicopter, his fist slowly fell, come to dangle uselessly next to his body.

As much as he hated to admit it, Ivan wasn’t just any supervillain. Not a phony, not an evil mastermind, but something far more real, far more dangerous, far more human. And also… speaking much too wisely for someone Alfred’s age, those words sending his entire world upside down.


	3. Collateral Damage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Active evil is better than passive good.”   
> -William Blake

The Siberian Grizzly. That is the name the people had given Ivan. He had killed even more since Alfred had last encountered him. The young American actually did some research on him this time- and found that indeed, each and every single one of his victims had done something or other wrong. From fraud to abuse to murder, all of his victims had something unforgivable under their name. Alfred didn’t want to believe Ivan truly only killed those who deserved it, but the evidence was right there in front of his eyes, black on white.

They were still nothing alike though. Because yes, Alfred himself had been forced to murder some of his opponents on several occasions. But, he only did so if there was absolutely no way out. Not Ivan. No, the Siberian Grizzly killed on the spot, without giving his victims any chance to turn themselves in, without bringing them to court for a proper trial, without giving them a chance to defend themselves or explain or just show that perhaps, they weren’t so bad after all. (Not that Alfred had ever sent someone to prison who didn’t deserve it, oh no, of course not.)

And yet… And yet Ivan’s words couldn’t leave him be. Kept spinning through his mind, catching up to him right when he was about to fall asleep, gnawing away at his conscious. After all, Alfred hadn’t become the Iron Eagle because he was born with powers, because he felt it his duty to be a hero. Of course he _was_ a good guy, no doubt about that. But that wasn’t his reason for taking arms against crime.Alfred had always wanted to be a hero, even as a little kid. Watching movies about Batman and Spiderman, reading about Superman and Captain America. They were strong, amazing, loved by all, got the girl and the happy ending.

And Alfred… Alfred wanted that too. Yes, he had sworn to defend the city. But mostly… mostly for himself. Because he wanted to be recognized as the cool guy, craved for attention, wanted people to love and praise him, wanted to get the girl and fly off into his happily ever after. He’d never really thought about it, but now, after Ivan’s accusations… Doubt finally made him tremble in his shoes.

* * *

Ivan was at it again. And this time, Alfred wouldn’t let him get away. This time, he was prepared. No more talking, no more letting himself be persuaded. This time, Ivan was going to prison.

The sunny blond checked the address he had written down on the back of his hand. That was the place they had mentioned on the police radio, to which he as the city’s defender had full access. It was an old abandoned depot, the perfect place for a possible face-off. Alfred was buzzing with energy, his boxing gloves already neatly fitting around his hands before he entered through a window. At first sight he seemed to be alone, but Alfred knew better than to let his guard down. He crouched down on top of a stack of boxes, scanning his surroundings.

_‘Come on you bastard, show yourself…’_

He was in luck. It only took Ivan about eight minutes to arrive, suddenly appearing in the middle of the room as he dragged a body behind him. As soon as Alfred saw this, a red cloud shattered his vision. That, that- he had killed another! Right under Alfred’s nose! Oh, he was going down now.

With a loud shout he leapt down from his hiding spot, readying his fists to start beating the living daylights out of that murdering scumbag. His battle cry gave him away though; Ivan noticing his presence before he could be tackled to the ground. Instead, Alfred suddenly found himself on his back, a heavy Russian pinning him down. The man’s lips twitched up into an almost loving smile, eyes hooded and shining just as mysteriously as the previous time they’d met.

“Ah, I was hoping we could meet again. I take it you have been a good boy?”

“Let me go!” Alfred growled. He tried pushing up, momentarily surprising Ivan with his strength, before the other regained his composure and once more shoved him to the cold floor. Making a tutting noise, he laughed at the angry helplessness with which Alfred spat out curse words.

“Now, please hold still for a while. We are not finished talking.”

“Yes we are.” Alfred could feel it, pulsing through his veins, the want to take action, the want to punch and bite and hurt- anything to not feel so weak, so out of character. No one had ever made him feel that way before, none of his previous nemeses, and he hated Ivan for it.

“I wanted to give you some advice.”

“As if I’d take advice from the likes of you-”

“Hush.” Ivan placed a hand over his mouth, giving him a harsh pinch when the teen tried to bite those offending fingers. As soon as Alfred stopped complaining, he resumed his little speech. “For someone your age, I know the world may seem like it is black and white. Good and bad. And up and a down, and so on and so on, everything is opposite of each other.”

Alfred went quiet at long last, a little intrigued by what the other had to say, not that he’d admit that of course.

“That however, is not the way of the world. There is a lot more grey than you would like to believe, Alfred.”

“How do you-”

Ivan grinned wider. “Of course I know who you are. It does not take a lot of searching around to find the names of every person about your age in this city, especially not if you have my connections.”

“Which are?” Alfred asked, playing along. If Ivan knew who he was, he definitely couldn’t let him get away. His secret identity was far too important, he at least knew that much from all the superhero flicks he’d watched.

“None of your business, little eaglet. After all, I would not want you to go searching for them after tonight.”

After… “Wait, so… You’re just gonna let me go? You- you’re not going to kill me here?”

Ivan shook his head, successfully bedazzling the young hero. “Why would I give you advice if I was going to kill you afterwards? There is no fun in that. No-”A weird buzzing resonated in Alfred’s ears when the other suddenly leant in so close that their noses were mere inches apart. He got a really good view at those eyes now- like pools of molten amethyst, with the slightest hint of red dots at the edges, as some sort of warning that beauty often deceived. Alfred swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry.“Of course I am not going to kill you, young Alfredka. You are the only one trying to help me in my cause, after all.”

“Like hell I am-”

“But you are. You see, my only goal is to rid this world of those who do not deserve to live. I am not saying this justifies my actions, oh no. It is like I said, there is no good and evil. No person is a villain, or a hero, there are only those trying to do what they think is right.” A soft chuckle. “And that is where you come in. Because you are the only one aiding me in my quest, despite your naive vision on this world. So da, I will let you live. I will let you continue your work in peace. The only thing I ask is for you to let me do the same. Leave me be, and together we shall cleanse this city.”

Cleanse… that sounded a bit too drastic. As if Ivan thought himself a god of some sorts… No, Alfred couldn’t let him! Then again… If helping Ivan meant he would be some sort of almighty judge, didn’t that give Alfred power as well…? Wait, what was he thinking?! This was exactly the kind of corruption that made heroes turn into villains! No, he had to stop Ivan, had to tell Ivan he had no right to proclaim himself a-

Alfred’s thought processes were abruptly cut off when a pair of soft lips met his own. Everything inside his head slowed down, showing only a big question mark. Was, was Ivan… kissing him???!!!

This time, Alfred didn’t just lie there and take it. With a loud growl he pushed the other off, quickly rolling onto his hands and knees as soon as he could move freely again. Remembering not to show his back to the enemy he turned around, shooting Ivan the most venomous (flustered) leer he could manage.

“What the hell was that supposed to mean?! You don’t just kiss me dude, I’m a superhero! I’m not Spiderman- sure he goes around kissing random people but most of them are pretty girls and you’re no pretty girl you’re a villain-”

After Alfred started tripping over his own ramblings, he finally noticed the grin Ivan was sending him. Oh- it had just been a distraction. And now that faucet was pointed at his head, and Alfred knew he wasn’t fast enough to deal the first blow. Damnit, his opponent had been lying all along! Now he was dead, and, and… He realized he wasn’t ready for death.

Alfred flinched back, eyes snapping shut when the other raised his weapon.

_‘Please don’t let it hurt…’_

Ivan merely giggled, sparing his life this time. Perhaps he did know how to keep promises.

“You are quite adorable when you are afraid. Think about my offer, Alfred. You do not have to get acquainted with me or my contacts. Simply stay out of my way and do what you always have done. And who knows-” Ivan blew him a small kiss, winking. “Perhaps next time we will meet under more pleasant circumstances.”

Ivan left. Alfred stayed behind. His back was soaked with sweat, his hands trembling inside the gloves.

He thought meeting Ivan again would clear things out, settle unsettled business. Instead, he felt even more confused than before.


	4. Listen To Your Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Everybody has good and bad forces working with them, against them, and within them.”  
> -Suzy Kassem, Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem

Matthew groaned when someone kept insistently ringing his doorbell. The young adult grumbled as he pushed himself up on his elbows, plucking his glasses from the nightstand and placing them on the bridge of his nose. “I’m coming!” he called, voice still heavy with sleep. It was his supposed day off, after all.

As soon as he opened the door, a blur of blond and tanned skin flashed towards him before he was practically lifted off the ground. “A-Alfred!” he gasped, struggling to break free from the other’s iron hold. “You’re crushing my ribs!”

At those words Alfred let out a yelp and quickly put him down again. “Ah Matt I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“I know you didn’t. You never do,” Matthew reassured him, smiling painfully as he rubbed at his sides. At least he was fully awake now.

Matthew guided his brother towards the living room and pushed him onto the couch- well, they called it the living room, but it was technically just the couch, TV and a bookcase separated by only a counter from the quote-unquote kitchen, which was also the place where they ate. It wasn’t a big apartment at all, but it was big enough for two college students who only had part-time jobs and a tuition fee to pay off. Speaking of the other one of the two-

“Hey Matt, the shower went cold again!” Gilbert sauntered out of the bathroom, only clad in a towel that hung loosely off his rather slender hips. The pale man was quite muscular otherwise, but most people were distracted by his greyish white locks and piercing red eyes to notice that fact.Gilbert became aware of the presence of a guest and grinned widely. “Ah, the Spatz is here! Guten Morgen kleine Dinge!”

Alfred huffed indignantly as Gilbert quickly pecked Matthew on the lips. “Could you leave us alone for a little while?” his brother’s gentle voice asked, “we want to talk for a bit, as brothers.”

Gilbert shrugged and disappeared into the bedroom with his phone, probably off to write more posts for his blog. Matthew made Alfred some coffee while the other pathetically flopped down onto the couch. His brother and Gilbert were some of the only few who knew about his alter ego, after all. They were the only two he could go to with his heroic problems right now.

“Now, tell me why you look so down,” Matthew began, pushing a steaming hot mug into Alfred’s listless hands.

Alfred took a sip from the drink, scrunching his nose as it nearly burnt his tongue. He glanced over the rim of his glasses, trying to stall for time. It wasn’t everyday he came to his brother to discuss existential life matters.“So… You heard about this new villain right?”

“Oh yeah… The Siberian Grizzly, right?” Matthew fished through his recent newspapers (which he kept to do his brother a favour) and looked over the front page. “Yes, here it is. ‘Russian newcomer turns city upside down’... They say he’s killed quite a few already, and that you haven’t been able to stop him yet.”

Alfred pouted at that last part. It wasn’t like he had been getting any help from the police. Not that he would ask them for help… True, if he gave them Ivan’s name the guy would be found a lot faster. But somehow it didn’t feel right to just end things like that. Not only because it was cheap, but because that’d be boring and lame. Alfred didn’t play that way; if he was going to be a hero he was going to do it by the book. And the book said you had to defeat the villain in some awesome heroic battle of faith.

“Why haven’t you caught him yet? Is he a special one?” By ‘special one’ Matthew was referring to the few opponents Alfred had faced that actually had potential, who didn’t go out after a single blow to the head. A challenge, per say.

“Well I did meet him, but he managed to get away twice. He’s very good at keeping his work a secret, so there aren’t that many sightings of him, even if he claims a lot of victims,” Alfred sullenly answered from his spot on the couch. He took another sip of coffee as Matthew put on a pensive expression.

“Hmmm… And you’re sure you don’t know where he lives? Shouldn’t be that hard to track down. That way you can have your ‘epic battle’, as I know you love those.”

Alfred lifted his head off the couch, displaying the face of a puppy who’d sniffed something delicious. “You can? How?”

“Well…” Matthew walked over to a commode stashed between the kitchen counters and the wall. “You gave me this once for safekeeping, remember? You got it from the mayor as some sort of promotion, a thank you for capturing so many criminals.” Matthew pulled out a map with a victorious titter. He padded back to the couch and opened the map on the coffee table. Alfred leant over, eyes shimmering with hope and interest.

“Oh, I remember that! It’s a map of town! But how will that help me?”

“Well, it’s not just any map.” Matthew then revealed the documents he’d stored away with it, laying them all open on every empty space he could find. “This here for example, is a list of all the abandoned buildings and empty houses in the city. You got that to prevent squatters from using them, remember?”

Alfred blushed only a little at the cocked eyebrow sent his way. Yes, he knew he’d been slacking in his civil duties. But chasing after true villains was so much more fun!

“So,” Matthew continued, handing his brother the piece of paper, “you just have to go by those houses and see if you can find life where there shouldn’t be any.”

Alfred whined. “But that’s gonna take forever! Even if I use my wings, I still have to fly through all of town!”

Matthew’s lips curled up in a knowing little grin. “You can finally have that big battle you’ve been waiting for once you find him…”

Alfred got excited for just a minute, before being reminded of his true reasons for visiting.“Say Mattie… You ever thought about the meaning of good and bad?”

Matthew paused, staring at the other wide-eyed and with slightly opened mouth. “Good and bad… Uh, maybe? I mean, you’d have to think about that at some point with you as a brother… But why ask? Haven’t you always been super sure of the difference?”

Alfred shrugged before burying his face into a pillow. He felt a dip in the couch, and pushed himself against the back to give Matthew enough room to sit.

“Hey… Did something happen? You’re unusually quiet. Did you… did you lose to someone?”

Alfred shook his head. He felt an uncomfortable twisting in his stomach, like a knot that had wrapped itself up into a tight ball. “I uh… I told you I did meet the Siberian Grizzly… Well, actually his name is Ivan but-”

“He told you his name?” Matthew asked, alarm shining through his words. “Then why are we even trying to find out where he lives? Just give it to the authorities and-”

Alfred lifted his head up, giving a sour glance over his shoulder. Matthew noticed, and frowned.“Oh. This is another ‘pride thing’, right?”

Alfred groaned and once more hid in the pillow, leaving just enough space for his words to climb up and into Matthew’s ears. “Yes I know, and yes, I know I should turn him in. But it just feels wrong… Like cheating or something. Plus, well, the thing I just asked? About good and bad? ...It’s kind of his fault I started thinking about that.”

Matthew sighed, rolling his eyes up to the heavens. “Oh Alfred… What am I to do with you?” The other retaliated by throwing the pillow at his face.

“It’s not my fault! He, he just started talking and… and now I can’t get what he said out of my head.” Then he suddenly sat up, grabbing his brother’s hands and jerking him forward. Matthew eeped before their faces almost bashed into each other, but Alfred luckily stopped at a reasonable distance. “Tell me Mattie… am I a bad guy?”

Matthew let out a soft noise of understanding before pulling Alfred into a hug. He waited for the tension to leave those shoulders, patting his back as he did so.“You’re not a bad guy Al… Why would you ever think that? Bad guys don’t go after criminals, right?”

“I guess not…”

“Bad guys don’t save people. Right?”

“...No…”

“And bad guys don’t feel regret if they do end up having to beat someone, or maybe even accidentally killing them. Which is not your fault.”

Alfred didn’t answer.

_‘Do I really regret the violence?’_

Had he truly forgotten that delicious rush of adrenaline, the strange fluttering as he saw someone break under his prowess, bow to his strength? Did he really regret the blood on his hands, the voice whispering in his ear that he deserved to be praised, and that they deserved to die?

No, of course he regretted it. No doubt about that. Those other thoughts were just in his imagination.

Thus, with renewed vigour, Alfred set out that night to go and locate Ivan’s home. His brother wishing him good luck, Gilbert cackling as he pushed something to drink for on the way into his hands.

Alfred spread his wings and vanished into the night, ignoring the excited thumping of his heart.


	5. Would You Like Some Sugar With That?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The question isn't whether the world is perfect.  
> The real question to consider is: If it were, would you still be in it?”   
> -Eric Micha'el Leventhal

Alfred crossed another building off his map. He groaned as he stretched his left arm, placing his right hand over his shoulder to get rid of the kinks. No Ivan in sight. He’d traversed half the city, but the night was still young. He was getting tired though. Superhero or not, even the Iron Eagle had his limits.

Alfred looked out over the streets below from his hiding place, up high on a skyscraper. The people had no idea what he was doing for him. It made him want to go down and proclaim his heroic antics, let everyone cheer and applaud as they watched him fight the bad guy. But he couldn’t do that, not before finding Ivan. Not without having innocent citizens get in the way, endangering their life. He might be needy for attention, but he wasn’t going to take any risks.

Alfred stood up and rearranged his wings. They were made of strong steel, so that he could use them both to fly and as a shield if necessary. But enough rest for now, time to move on. He still had a lot of buildings to check, and he’d like to finish this by tomorrow. That way he could live on undisturbed after that, able to act as if he’d never met Ivan, as if they’d never had those conversations. All would be well once he arrested the Russian.

The young American soared through the sky, catching invisible currents and every now and then using his grappling hook to take sharp turns and dodge stone walls. His next destination was in the less inhabited part of town, where past financial crises had brought the people to move away or close their stores.

Alfred elegantly landed - meaning he didn’t fall flat on his face, which had taken a lot of practicing - in front of the building. The street light was broken, meaning the area in which he was standing was currently shrouded in darkness. Feeling only a little anxious, Alfred tried pushing against the door. It gave away immediately.

He snuck inside, looking around for any clues there were people living here. So far there wasn’t any, but he decided to check upstairs before crossing this location off too. The stairs creaked only slightly under his feet, and he swore he could hear rodents scurrying away. This place was giving him the creeps, but heroes don’t falter in the face of haunted mansions! ...At least, that is what Alfred kept repeating to himself like a soothing mantra.

His heart made a little jump when he got to the second floor and found light streaming from under a door. There was somebody here after all! Taking out his gloves, he mentally prepared himself to deal with whoever he would encounter on the other side of it. Before he could go inside though, the door opened in his direction.

Alfred and Ivan stared at each other for a long, pregnant moment. Ivan’s expression read nothing but surprise and disbelief, while Alfred had something of a deer caught in the headlights. Then, the Russian smiled.

“Ah, Alfred! Drug moy! How nice of you to visit!” He said it in a light-hearted tone, but Alfred didn’t miss the way his lips curled back just enough to show teeth. Aha, he had caught Ivan off-guard! That made the score… Two to one? He had to give those two points to Ivan for escaping him twice, after all.

Alfred straightened his back, and raised his right hand to point at the villain. “Ivan Braginsky, otherwise known as the Siberian Grizzly, I have come to challenge you to a battle!”

Instead of accepting or declining, Ivan simply kept smiling. “But we do not have to fight right now, da? Please, do come in! You are guest!”

Alfred’s proud stance faltered ever so slightly. “Come in…” He grew suspicious, frowning. “Wait, this isn’t an ambush or something, right?”

“Nyet, nyet!” Ivan laughed, shaking his head. Apparently he found the whole ordeal to be quite amusing. “Is simply good manners! You come knocking at my door, I invite you in for tea! Or would you prefer coffee?”

And before he knew it, Alfred somehow found himself in the other’s living room, sitting at a small table. His muscles stood taut as Ivan worked in the kitchen, ready for an assault. Any minute now…

“You can relax, Iron Eagle,” Ivan cooed, pronouncing his name in the most mocking of tones. “See? No weapons.” He showed his empty hands, even turned his pockets inside out. Alfred’s eyes still shot electricity, but his drawn lip was more petulant than stubborn. Ivan turned back towards the stove when his kettle made a hissing noise.

“I really don’t get you,” Alfred said, refusing to admit he was pouting. Where were the snide remarks? The torture chamber? Or had Ivan hidden it behind a bookcase? Where was his heroic one-on-one battle? Where was the hostility? Why the hell was Ivan treating this like a nice amicable visit of one friend to another?

“I would say likewise, but then I would be lying,” Ivan responded, giggling at the growl this drew from his American guest.

Ivan whistled a jolly tune as he brought over the tea and two old mugs. They had cracks in them and appeared to have been used many times before. Ivan delicately placed one in front of Alfred, pouring the steaming hot liquid into it without a care in the world. Alfred still eyed him warily, but Ivan truly seemed to have no intentions of attacking. After filling both of their mugs, the giant sat down in the chair opposite of Alfred’s. He placed his elbows on the table, placed his chin in folded hands, and then just stared, creepy childish smile ever-present.

Alfred stared right back, unblinking. “You didn’t poison that, did you?”

Ivan giggled, slightly tilting his head to the side. “Silly American, why would I do that? Like I said, you are guest! And I still have no intentions of killing you.”

“Yet you’re killing everyone else.” Alfred took the mug between two hands, feeling it warm his skin. "If… If what you said is true, and I’m not saying it is, but if it’s true… Then I’m just as bad as all those guys you killed. You say I’m helping your case, but you also say I’m not a good person. That’s pretty much contradicting yourself.”

“Nyet, not at all!” Ivan interrupted warmly. “You might not always be using right methods, but you still have right intentions. That is what counts. No one is truly bad or good, but it is their actions that define them.”

He paused, untangling his fingers before intertwining them once more in slightly different positions. “You see, there are plenty of people out there who do not act upon their violent tendencies. Psychopaths, but not just them. There are those who are plagued by depression, have odd little quirks, who are different. And yet they still do their best not to do anything with those impulses. Because they know better. And then there are others… And then there are others.” He sighed wistfully. “Are they bad? No, because they keep to themselves. Does that mean they are good? No, because the impulses are still there. So you see, everything is grey.”

“Wait,” Alfred said, the mug at his lips. He quickly put it down again, not having perceived the action. “Then how do you determine who to go after? If no one’s completely bad, why’d you still kill them?”

Ivan leant forward, coming so unnervingly close it made the hairs in Alfred’s neck stand on edge. He swallowed, but didn’t move out of the way as deep purple locked with blue.

“Because while a person may not be evil, their acts are. Self-defence is necessary at times, but rape? Murder, not out of revenge or any good will, but for the mere pleasure of killing? Abuse, child abduction, you name it mister Iron Eagle. _Those_ are the crimes I try to punish. Not some petty theft or tax fraud, but the true demons among mankind.”

“And you do so by killing them,” Alfred whispered, eyes flashing defiantly.

A flash a pain shot over Ivan’s features, making his eyebrows scrunch together and his lips twitch. “Da. Because there are much worse punishments than death.”

Alfred wanted to ask what those would entail, but Ivan sat back and the moment was gone. Alfred blinked and shook his head, as if awakening from a deep slumber. Ivan really had that effect on him, didn’t he?

Instead, he absentmindedly sipped his tea. Then quickly pulled the mug away, scrunching his nose. “Gross, what is this stuff? It’s so bitter!”

Ivan giggled in that frustratingly high-pitched way of his, downing his own drink in one go. “Is kuding, da? Chinese tea I got from a friend. Would you like some sugar perhaps?”

“So the Siberian Grizzly actually has friends huh?” Alfred mocked.

Ivan responded by unveiling his teeth in a very fake grin. He didn’t seem to particularly like the nickname the townspeople had thought up for him. Well, tough luck, because the deal had already been sealed.

Alfred shoved his mug out of the way, deciding it was time to get to business. “Now then, what I really came here for.”

“Ah, it has intentions other than finding out where I live?” Ivan teased. Alfred ignored the jab sent his direction, and went on. He kicked his chair back, placing his hands behind his head as if he was completely at ease (which he wasn’t, not at all, but Ivan didn’t need to know that).

“I came with a proposal. Something that involves both you and me.”

Ivan placed his hands flat on the table and lowered his head, eyes darkening. “I am listening, little one.”

“Don’t call me that,” Alfred snapped, sounding a lot braver than he felt. “Anyways, I propose we have a battle. A big heroic battle, just like heroes and villains are supposed to. Because, okay, I’ll admit, you’re not really your average villain.”

“Why thank you mal’cheek. “

“Whatever, you’re grey, or however you wanna call it. And I’m… okay, maybe I’m a little grey too. Just a little..” (A little more than he was ever going to admit to himself.) “But here’s the deal. We fight, like we’re supposed to. If I win, you leave town. I don’t care if you keep doing what you’re doing outside, that’s none of my business. But you have to leave. If you win…” He swallowed harshly. “If you win… I’ll leave you alone. I’m not going to protect you or anything, but I’ll let you do what you came for.”

He couldn’t believe he was actually going to try and make a deal with a villain. On the other hand, Ivan didn’t have to know that he was intent on winning, whatever the outcome.

The Russian tilted his head left and right, intrigued. “Interesting… But I will make it even more interesting.”

He then came so close their noses all but touched.

“If you win, I shall give you all the information I have on everyone in town. That way you can ‘look for the bad guys’, even after I am gone. And if I win…” _Had his eyes always been this smouldering?_ “If I win, I have a surprise for you.”

Alfred would’ve questioned the meaning behind those words more thoroughly had he not been such a sucker for surprises. Lips forming a challenging grin, he replied.

“So, when’re we gonna do this thing?”


	6. Winners Don't Play Fair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Whether a character is good or evil depends on your perspective.”   
> -Steve Jones Snr

Two sets of eyes were locked in a staring contest as the men circled around each other. The parking lot was empty save for their presence, the Iron Eagle fighting for justice (or so he said), the Siberian Grizzly fighting for… entertainment? To humour Alfred? His intentions weren’t clear. What was clear was the smirk adorning his features, hooded eyes sizing him up like a true grizzly stalking on its prey. It sent a shudder travelling through Alfred’s body, made him tighten his fists inside the gloves.

This was it. The moment he’d been waiting for. Their glorious one-on-one battle. He’d visited Matthew right before this to mentally prepare himself, Gilbert giving him extra tips on how to fight. Alfred appreciated the help, but he wouldn’t need it. His own guts were going to be far enough.

Yet as the other studied him so intently, he could almost feel himself shrink a few inches. Not out of fear, but because that piercing gaze awakened something in his stomach. A slumbering beast answering to a mute call. His heart pounding just that much faster, a single drop of sweat tickling the back of his neck. He swallowed harshly, and nodded all but imperceptibly.

It was on.

In a flash Ivan shot forward, catching Alfred off-guard. He could only just duck to dodge the pipe swinging directly at his head. His heart fluttered up to his throat, the younger of the two staring up with bulging eyes.

“I thought you didn’t want to kill me?!”

“Da, that is true,” Ivan responded calmly, him bringing back the pipe so they could have a calm conversation like true gentlemen.

“Then why the fuck did you aim for my head?! You want to bash my skull in or what?!”

Ivan smiled once more, bending over to bring their faces close.“Oh, silly, silly American. Of course I know how to hit people over the head without killing! Is only natur-”

Alfred didn’t let him finish that sentence, forcing himself forward which resulted in their foreheads colliding. Both men fell over, each clutching their head as pathetic little groans filled the open space. Ivan was up and about faster than Alfred however, and this time he didn’t smile.

“Ah, so you want to play it dirty? Well then, Iron Eagle, dirty it shall be.”

Alfred pulled his hand away from his eyes just in time to see that pipe swinging down again. He rapidly rolled onto his side, it hitting the ground right where his ribcage had been just a second ago. He immediately had to roll over again, Ivan leaving no opening for recovery. Alfred managed to get up, but was pushed into defence as Ivan relentlessly swung the pipe towards him.

Three, four, five times this happened, before Alfred decided he’d had enough of it. The sixth time Ivan attacked, instead of getting out of the way, he steeled himself and grabbed the object mid-swing. Ivan’s lips tightened, and Alfred knew his teeth snapped together from the sudden impact. Ivan tried to pull back, but Alfred used the other’s strength against him. He surged forward right when the faucet was released from his hands, a gloved fist making contact with the side of Ivan’s head.

The Russian stumbled backwards, a hand shooting up to cover the injured area. Alfred had to admire him for not fainting on the spot; his punches were known to kill on occasion. Considering this turned out to be a mistake, as Ivan recovered faster than he expected. A foot hit his calve, and Alfred hissed at the sudden sharp pain shooting through his leg.

This process repeated itself a couple of times. Alfred being forced to defend himself, him finally getting a few punches in, but before he could claim victory Ivan would somehow once more gain the upper hand. Alfred did manage to tear up the other’s shirt at some point, but not without his own shoes getting kicked off.

When Ivan tried to hook his foot behind Alfred’s leg to make him fall, the American grabbed onto the other’s scarf and took the tall man down with him. Ivan landed on top of Alfred with a soft moan, successfully squeezing the air out of the blond’s lunges. Surely Ivan was a big man, but Alfred hadn’t expected him to feel like a massive brick wall crashing down on him.

When he looked up though, his breath caught for just a fraction of a moment.

Ivan had his eyes scrunched shut in a pained expression, rosy blush tainting his cheeks and tiny beads of sweat dripping from beneath his hairline. He let out a low sound, something between a groan and a pant, that sent a shot of scalding heat through Alfred’s nerves. Especially when Ivan opened his eyes and looked down with what could only be described as a predatory leer- for more reasons than Alfred would like to admit.

As soon as he became aware of all this, the young American let out a startled squeak and pushed Ivan off with everything he had. The Russian rolled off with ease, falling onto his back to display even more overworked skin previously hidden behind the now ripped shirt. Alfred’s heart was hammering against his ribs while he distanced himself from the other, and not just because of the adrenaline. Ivan was sending him a questioning look, tilting his head slightly to the side like a confused kitten (a very large, very muscular kitten, and would his purrs sound like-)

While Ivan made to get up, Alfred calmly took off his gloves and brought a hand to his belt. The moment the Russian looked back at his opponent, he stared right into the barrel of very real handgun.Ivan cocked an eyebrow, a disapproving noise escaping from his lips. “Alfred, really? What is the meaning of this?”

“Don’t come any closer,” Alfred warned, a hint of hysteria colouring the otherwise monotone voice beaming across the parking lot. “If you do, I’ll shoot you clean through your head. You’ll be dead before you can call for help.”

Ivan refused to let himself be intimidated, making eye-contact with Alfred as he took one step forward. “Is that truly how a hero behaves? Or have you finally accepted the fact that real heroes do not exist? Petty. I had such high hopes for you.”

“I do what I have to, to protect the city,” Alfred answered, his eyes closely following Ivan’s every step. He didn’t pull the trigger, regardless of the warnings. “Even if that includes killing someone. Because if that someone is dangerous, they’re better off dead than alive.”

Alfred’s hands shook when Ivan took another step closer. With a loud clang his beloved pipe landed to the ground. Blue eyes shot down to look at it for just a second, then back up. A second hand was brought up to support the first one holding the gun. They were trembling.

Ivan took another step, and another. Had he blinked even once? And why was Alfred so shivery?

“Go ahead, dorogoy. Shoot. I am not going to stop you,” came the soothing rumble. Alfred’s vision went unfocused for a small moment, as if he were suddenly extremely tired. Ivan seemed to have gotten much, much closer by the time he was back in the present. Standing almost directly in front of his outstretched arms, the Russian was still staring him down.

“But you will not, da? Because I know a little secret of you. Because this is all too… _interesting_ , to you.” Alfred tried not to jump when fingers delicately touched his combined hands. The gun was guided up, until it pushed directly against Ivan’s temple. One shot, and this villain would be dead as dust. Yet Alfred seemed to have forgotten how to fight, how to do anything but try not to let his legs give away under him as inhuman eyes pulled at his soul, his entire being, connecting with every vein and muscle and nerve.

“W-what secret?” Alfred whispered when Ivan got so close he could feel hot breath flowing from the tip of his nose onto the rest of his face. The gun was useless in his hands, supported by funny noodle arms which could usually punch through stone walls. Not now, not as a hand curled around his waist, lightly dipping him, as another left electric trails along his neck.

“That you, what is expression…” Ivan murmured, waiting for Alfred’s eyes to drop to his lips as he hungrily curled them, “you have the hots for a villain?”

And right when those lips brushed over Alfred’s own, they heard it. Police sirens, people shouting, lights shining down the rows of empty cars.

“Der’mo!”

Alfred was inelegantly dropped to the ground before anything further could happen. Ivan was gone in a flash, the police arriving by his side not a moment later.

“Sir! Sir, mister Iron Eagle sir, are you hurt?”

Alfred couldn’t respond, heart still feeling like it wanted to escape via his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words:  
> Der’mo: Shit


	7. When a Man has a Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We're all caught up in circumstances, and we're all good and evil. When you're really hungry, for instance, you'll do anything to survive. I think the most evil thing - well, maybe that's too strong - but certainly a very evil thing is judgment, the sin of ignorance.”  
> -Anthony Hopkins

Alfred looked in the mirror. Two amazingly blue eyes stared right back, went up and down and up again. Over what he once thought to be a rather well-defined teenage body. Had it been conceited to think that? Then again, was he not entitled to a little handsomeness, being the local hero? Or was that conceited as well? He placed a hand over his face, possessively splaying fingers over sun-kissed skin. Patting a few times before dragging it down as he let out a pathetic little moan. Was this truly the face of a hero?

Identity crises were a feat formerly unknown to the young American. However, after all those morally ambiguous meetings with a certain Russian, it was time for a little re-evaluation.

“What would make me a hero…”

Pro: He had saved the life of dozens, hundreds, perhaps even thousands of people.

Con: He had also taken the lives of many others.

Pro: He didn’t ask for anything in return.

Con: But he did expect everyone to praise him to the heavens and beyond, treat him like a VIP.

Pro: He could honestly say he was a nice guy, who found joy in helping others.

Con: He also found joy in fighting, perhaps a little too much.

Pro: He didn’t shoot Ivan.

Con: …

He didn’t shoot Ivan.

He had meant to, of course. Why else would he bring a gun? Not to show off, nor as a mere threat. With Alfred, if it ever did come to him having to draw his gun, he almost always pulled the trigger. Sometimes he shot his opponent in the leg to keep them from fleeing the scene, other times he used the weapon to disarm the other. Few times he’d been forced to kill, the bad guy too far gone to be reasoned with. He saved many lives by doing that of course, but still… It was rather difficult to ignore the rush of euphoria as he heard that gunshot, the blood pumping through his veins when that intoxicating scent reached his nostrils. It was a sin to be this excited over a mere object of power, but Alfred had come up with many excuses to keep ignoring the fact.

He was Alfred F. Jones. Nineteen years old, still in college (but luckily he had summer vacation right now). Had a twin brother who was in a relationship with the guy who coached him. His alias was the Iron Eagle, defender of the city and protector of all things good. And he had almost let himself be kissed by a villain instead of shooting him, like he should have done. For the better good of the city, for the better good of himself. Why? That was what he was currently trying to figure out.

A hand ghosted over his lips. If he closed his eyes, he would be sure to feel the warmth, the anticipation, taste the other’s surprisingly sweet breath. Alfred had kissed before, once. (And the other kiss with Ivan didn’t count.) However, she caught him by surprise back then, and when he shot back at the touch and hit his head she had laughed and called him a child. Ever since then he had wanted to kiss, dreamt of it, to show he wasn’t a child at all, but alas. No one showed interest. Lien had begun flirting with him again as of late, the girl who stole his first kiss, but he’d never felt as excited about kissing her as he did that night, when violet came close enough to entrance but too far to capture.

Alfred shuddered and quickly pulled his hand down, as if they had touched something burning hot. _This was a sin_. Not only was Ivan a guy, he was a villain, which was far worse. One should never fall in love with the enemy. Romeo and Juliet did, and look where it brought them! Both dead, a few (lots of) casualties in the family on the side.

Alfred didn’t want to die. Nor did he intend to kill Ivan. Of course, he could always just turn him in to the police, but somehow it just didn’t feel like the right thing to do. Ivan behind bars not only seemed wrong, Alfred also thought Ivan to get far more dangerous then. Nothing more ruthless than a vengeful spirit, after all.

What other options were there? Let Ivan do as he pleased, wash his hands off of him? Now that would only make the teen lose all credibility as a superhero. Join Ivan? See the previous option. ...There was... something he could do about that… but it would be difficult to pull off.

If he started helping Ivan, go after those who truly deserved it, _but_ instead of killing them bring them to jail… If he could somehow change Ivan’s image as a criminal, explain to the media that he had good intentions all along… that was a possibility. Ivan probably wouldn’t like it. Definitely. Maybe. Taking orders from Alfred? Take on an image? No. But it was the only way for Alfred to- for Ivan to be saved. Redeemed. Yes.

The boy’s mood was a little better when he went to the gym for his daily exercise. Ignoring the way few people stared at his biceps, he only focused on the lovely plan forming in his head. It would be good for the both of them. Ivan could finish his work, Alfred could keep his job. And… Alfred almost tripped and fell once the next image flooded his mind. His cheeks weren’t just red from effort now.

With all the planning, he had all but forgotten the true reason for him wanting to make this proposition to the Russian. He could almost hear that sultry voice mocking and teasing, see him stalk closer and the shadow fall over his smaller figure as all light was blocked off but those two smouldering eyes-

The sunny blond immediately made for the showers. Relieved to find them all empty, he swiftly shook off his sweaty clothes and let the icy cold water attack his flushed skin.

How to propose this plan without Ivan instantly figuring out his hidden goals? How to approach someone with new intentions when the other had been treated as the bad guy all along? Alfred could feel the shame fill him at the thought of Ivan laughing at him, or worse, take advantage of his newly developed feelings.

What if the tall man had only attempted to kiss him as a manner of distraction, just like the first time? Alfred wasn’t sure he could take being played with like that. And yet the desire to once more feel those lips upon his own far outmatched his uncertainties. Thus, as the cold water did next to nothing to help his problem and he surrendered to the sensations, he knew.

He was a sinner, and Braginsky was both his drug and drug provider. By the blood on his hands and the muffled pants and grunts filling the empty showers, he knew.

* * *

Ivan was just about to eat dinner when a little note slid under his door. In a flash he was there, throwing it open to look outside, just in time to hear rumbling footsteps disappear out of the building. He ran to the window and looked down at the dark streets, a smile creeping onto his face when he spotted the lean figure sprinting down the alleyway. He casually walked back to the door to close it, bend over and pick up the note Alfred had left for him.

_We need to talk._

The snowy blond whistled as he deciphered the number quickly scribbled down beneath the short message, saving it in his phone afterwards. Oh, talk they would! And it would be delightful. Most certainly.


	8. The Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Maybe it’s not as clear-cut as that. Maybe it’s the very presence of one thing – light or darkness – that necessitates the existence of the other. Think about it, people couldn’t become legendary heroes if they hadn’t first done something to combat darkness. Doctors could do no good if there weren’t diseases for them to treat.”  
> -Jessica Shirvington

Ivan stared at him with the most incredulous look plastered permanently on his face. “Come again?” he asked, rising tone of his voice betraying how humorous he thought the situation to be.

Alfred played restlessly with the cape he had brought with. It was a red piece of cloth with the letters S and G sown onto it, Ivan’s initials. Or at least those of his villain name, and if Alfred’s plan worked, his soon-to-be hero name. The sunny blond was lucky to have friends who knew how to craft things like these.

“Like I said,” were the words that tumbled from his lips, gaze stubbornly fixed with the dirty tips of his worn-out sneakers. “I think… I think you could accomplish your goal much faster if we worked together.” Oh it was so hard to propose this for him, the Iron Eagle, who had sworn he’d rather eat his own foot than work together with another being. “You know, aside from your methods, you really do- you do good work. But, we’d have to change your image. A superhero like me simply can’t work together with a villain. If, if you’d just stop killing and let me do the talking, maybe-“

“And what if I do not want to be the hero, my little hypocrite?” Ivan interrupted, “what if I prefer being the villain?”

Alfred slowly shook his head, ignoring the jab for now. “You don’t mean that, nobody with a bit of common sense – which I know you have – wants to be-“

In a flash Ivan was right in front of him, towering over the youth’s smaller figure. Yet Alfred didn’t back away, only stared right back even as his heart skipped a beat. “And what if I do not want to be associated with heroes, because they are cocky scums who tried to rape my older sister and made my younger sister go insane?”

Alfred’s eyes widened, the weight of Ivan’s words settling into his stomach like a lump of rigid scorching rock. The other’s expression was cold and emotionless, leaving Alfred to imagine the pain he felt inside.

“Is- is that true?” he asked, voice barely rising above a whisper. When Ivan replied with a curt nod, he simply had to ask. “Then why not go after them instead? Why, why…”

_Why don’t you hate me?_

“I did.” Alfred swallowed, feeling shivers travelling across his skin when the Russian came even closer. “They got what they deserved. And it was then that I realized the world is filled with vermin, some locked away, others walking around in broad daylight. I went after them as well. But other than what you heroes do, I picked my targets more carefully. I knew the wrong-doers were not solely hidden behind masks and spandex. I do not want to kill all of you, because some heroes truly are innocent, truly do fight for what they think is right, instead of assaulting those who never hurt even a fly. Taking my revenge out on all of them would make me no better than those two, the two who started it all.”

Alfred twitched when a hand came up, thinking Ivan was going to hit him with it, only to feel a warmth resting on his cheek.

“I do not hate all heroes,” came his soft voice, as if quiet reverie, “but I do not want to be associated with them. Not after… after what happened.” When he went silent, they stayed like that for a short while, Alfred feeling his cheeks heating up when a thumb slid over his lips.

“S-so, okay, you don’t have to be a hero. But, can you at least consider my offer? I’d hate to have to send you to jail and all that jazz- I, I think you’re a nice guy despite, you know, the killing and stuff. I won’t tell the cops and people you’re a hero, but I can tell them to stay off your back because-“

Alfred was abruptly cut off when soft lips grazed his own, heartbeat speeding up considerably. It wasn’t a real kiss, more a touch-that-wasn’t-a-touch of shared heat and breath, electricity sparking off their skin. When Ivan straightened his back, he smiled down at the stupefied American.

“You truly do talk too much, mister Iron Eagle.” The sultry tones died into a light-hearted chuckle. He turned around, all but disappearing into the darkness. Before he was fully gone, Alfred could hear one last sentence.

“I shall… Think about it.”

“That’s all I ask,” was Alfred’s hoarse reply.

* * *

Alfred had it bad. Rolling around in his bed, he simply couldn’t get that almost-kiss out of his head. Each time he almost slipped away into restless slumber, Ivan’s image appeared, hanging over him with his scarf half-off-half-on his shoulders, eyes leering hungrily at Alfred’s mouth as it gasped open, as Alfred gasped awake with beating heart ad squirming limbs. He had the cape clutched to his chest, reminding him of Ivan despite the other having rejected the object. Now it was draped over his torso, trapped between thighs, twisted in cramped hands as the youngster gritted his teeth.

Dammit, dammit, dammit! Why couldn’t he have just fallen for Lien or some other normal person? No, it had to be Ivan fucking Braginsky, the one guy who could make his life miserable. Wanting to be kissed by him, reduced to… this. Whatever this was. Alfred yelped when his phone suddenly went off. Scrambling for his glasses, he sat up and brought the blaring object to his ear. Caller unknown.

“Hello?” he asked sleepily, praising himself lucky for his voice not giving him away.

“Ah, you are awake! Very good. I did not want to disturb you in your sleep.”

Alfred tightened his grip. “How’d you get my number?”

“None of your concern~” Ivan responded in a sing-song voice. “I shall not keep you for long. It is four in the morning, after all.”

Some shuffling could be heard, Alfred holding his breath. Then, two simple words.

“I accept.”


	9. Men On A Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Being against evil doesn't make you good. Tonight I was against it and then I was evil myself. I could feel it coming just like a tide... I just want to destroy them. But when you start taking pleasure in it you are awfully close to the thing you're fighting.”  
> -Ernest Hemingway

The Iron Eagle stood on top of a building, hands firmly on his hips, eyes looking down upon the city with the focus of, well, an eagle, cape flapping behind him in the most majestic of ways. It was his favourite Friday night activity, standing here, observing the people, ready to grab any criminal by the collar. Not that he enjoyed this city having so much crime of course, not in the least.

“What are you doing?”

“Can’t you tell?”

Alfred’s figure stiffened a little when Ivan let his chin plop on one of his shoulders, looking over the edge of the building as well. “You are posing for playboy magazine?”

“Oh shut up,” he growled, shimmying away from the other’s touch. Ivan merely giggled in response.

Alfred looked back over the empty rooftop. Tonight was the first time he and Ivan were on a mission together. Kind of like a superhero… meeting. Not a date. No siree. It was simply Alfred and Ivan, Ivan and Alfred, together, out, at night… uh…

“Are you done wasting time yet?” Ivan asked sweetly, leaning on his pipe as if it were a cane.

“I’m not wasting time,” Alfred huffed, rolling his eyes. “We gotta locate crime before we can stop it right? Or what, are you gonna let it magically appear right in front of us?”

“Actually…” Ivan hummed out an unknown song, casually prying his phone from one of his coat pockets. “I thought about calling my friend and asking them who is next on the list!”

“What list?” Alfred tried leaning in, reading the number on the screen, but Ivan put it to his ear before he got the chance, making a tutting noise at the younger man. He walked back towards the centre of the roof, boots clicking melodically against the bricks. “Ah, Yao! Good to see you can answer. … Da, that is correct. … Nyet, he is not. You will have to trust me~”

Alfred tilted his head, trying to listen in on the conversation. He couldn’t make head or tails of it. Was Yao the Chinese friend Ivan had mentioned the other day, the one who gave him that bitter tea? Probably. And apparently he had a list with criminals Ivan wanted to punish, if his deductions were correct (which they usually were if he wasn’t fooling around, even his alien theory was totally one-hundred percent true).

“Spasibo, that will be all!” After which Ivan clicked his phone shut and buried it deep within the pocket from which it came. “Come, our next target has decided she wants to move to Africa tomorrow, and we cannot let her escape.”

“Wait a sec!” Alfred interrupted him, grabbing his arm when the tall man was about to take his leave. “Before we do anything, I have to know what she did. I’m not going to punish anyone innocent. And _you_ ain’t gonna kill her big guy.”

Ivan pursed his lips, frowning, for the first time looking a bit displeased. He turned to fully face Alfred and lightly bent over. “If you insist, little eaglet, this woman got away with murder because of some procedural mistake. She should have gotten a life sentence, but instead she is roaming free. Oh, and it was not a passionate murder, if you wanted to know. There is plenty of evidence pointing to her having planned the entire thing. So, unless you want her to flee and possibly kill another, I think we better go pay her a visit.”

Alfred nodded, releasing his arm. “But we can’t kill her dude.”

“Then what do you suggest we do?” Ivan sighed. “She cannot be sent to jail if she has already been acquitted. She would need to commit a new crime.”

Alfred’s heart pounded against his ribs as he looked up. “Then how about we help her do that?”

* * *

“Good work officers!” Alfred said with a huge grin, not-so-gently patting the policeman on the shoulder.

“No, you good work Iron Eagle,” the man said, brown eyes shimmering with gratitude. “We couldn’t have caught her had you not been here as soon! It’s almost as if you knew what was going to happen!”

Alfred laughed a bit awkwardly, scratching his neck. He then looked over the man’s shoulder at their criminal, currently being stuffed away in the back of the police car. There was blood on her hands. She hadn’t killed anyone- of course she hadn’t. Alfred and Ivan had framed her. You see, through Ivan’s friend they were able to find out that this woman’s neighbour was an elderly woman who kept blood bags stored away in her fridge, just in case she needed a quick transfer. Alfred had taken off his costume, silently broken in and covered himself in the red liquid, after which he knocked on their target’s door. As soon as she laid her eyes upon him, she freaked out. Ran to the kitchen, Alfred following her into her house while acting very innocently, successfully hiding the hidden camera only showing her actions without revealing his appearance, capturing the image of her grabbing a knife and trying to stab him with it. He let her try at first, then turned off the camera and quickly  overpowered her, making sure he screamed loud enough for the neighbours to call the police. Next, he tied her up, and Ivan helped clean him up and put his uniform back on. And here they were. Attempted murder, after a case in which she actually killed someone but got out of it due to some stupid mistakes. They got her. She could tell the police whatever she wanted about Alfred; he hadn’t had his costume on and was covered in blood, making him unrecognizable.

“And make sure she stays in prison this time!”

“Will do sir, will do.”

Alfred watched the cars drive away, not even twitching when he heard someone breathe behind him.

“That was quite the lewd thing to do, my dearest superhero.”

“I did what I had to,” Alfred mumbled, gaze fixed on something he couldn’t even see. He knew exactly what Ivan was getting at. But did he really have to start preaching every single time?

A hand was placed upon his shoulder. “Come. I want to show you something.”

Alfred let himself be guided away from the scene of crime by a soft tugging at his arm. As they walked, that arm crawled up and sprawled itself around his shoulder, as if Ivan was his wise old grandpa or something (or boyfriend). He barely resisted the urge to sneak an arm around Ivan’s waist. Suddenly there were tingles of nervous electricity pooling from his fingertips to his toes. Where were they going?

They stopped in front of a statue, Ivan halting so suddenly Alfred almost crashed into him like one would into a brick wall. Luckily, Ivan was too busy looking at the stone man to laugh at his silly antics.

“You know this statue, da?”

“Course I do, it was the first mayor of this city. But why are we-“

“Have you ever read the inscription?”

Alfred blinked, then followed Ivan’s pointed finger to the statue’s foot. If he squinted, he could make something out under the name and dates. Sliding from under Ivan’s arm, he walked forward and knelt down. The letters were faded, and he had to wipe some dirt away to be able to make anything out, but there was a message.

“…I can’t read it man, it’s too dark and the letters are too vague.”

“It says ‘Knowledge is power, but ignorance is bliss’,” came Ivan’s voice, once more right behind him. Then, Ivan’s warm breath tickled the little hairs in his neck. “Tell me, Alfred. What is your opinion on that statement? Is it better hiding from your responsibilities, acting as if the world is none of your business, that you have nothing to fear as long as you are not one-hundred percent ‘evil’? Does happiness really come from apathy?”

“But they’re not talking about apathy…” Alfred whispered, closing his eyes with a shudder when he felt lips near his skin, not quite touching it. “They’re talking about how you can only become stronger by learning more about the world. If you don’t want to do that, that’s your own choice, and if being ignorant makes you happy, that’s good for you.”

“Is it really?” Alfred bit his lip to stop himself from sighing when the lips finally did touch, placing a non-existent kiss right beneath his hairline. “And what do you choose, Alfred?” They moved against his neck as he spoke. “Do you choose to be happy, knowing you could be killing and convicting hundreds of innocent, simply because you choose to ignore the fact that your judgement is sometimes clouded, so you can be the superhero everyone sees you as? Or do you choose to go only after those you know truly deserve it, gain knowledge about your city, gain knowledge about the world, but therefor let a few petty thieves go and possibly ruin your image, step into the grey zone? What is it you seek, fame or true justice?”

Right before Alfred could turn around, could yank Ivan down by his scarf and steal those words from his lips, the pressure disappeared. Ivan didn’t wait for an answer. Ivan didn’t care for an answer.

“Do svidanya, dorogoy.”

When Alfred finally found the strength to open his eyes and look back, Ivan had already disappeared. And he was alone, crouched in front of the statue with its message. He once more turned at it, following the stone lines with the tip of his finger.

But wasn’t it the other way around? Wasn’t him choosing fame the same as him choosing power, popularity and a voice in the city, and choosing bliss…

Choosing bliss would be to finally feel those lips upon his own again.


	10. Heroes Don't Sneak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I always find it’s easier to see the world in black and white. Grey? I don’t know what to do with grey.”  
> -Garrus Vakarian, Mass Effect 2

Alfred quickly found himself getting used to going on patrol with Ivan. There was something exciting about it; getting dressed up every night, meeting him in an alleyway somewhere so that no one could see them, discussing their next target to the faint dim of a lighter, the thrill of bringing justice in the _right_ way. Had Ivan not been Ivan, Alfred would have deemed him a worthy sidekick, but he was far too intricate for such a title.

It was like an unending streak of date nights, only without, you know, the actual dating. True, they were together, put on some nice clothes, talked with each other, held hands when one pulled the other into hiding- ahem. But it wasn’t like dating at all, despite those factors. They didn’t really talk about their private lives, or Alfred would ask and Ivan would refuse to answer. They didn’t stare lovingly into the other’s eyes like blubbering dopes. They didn’t kiss at the end of their ‘dates’… Although Alfred was sure that if he allowed the emotional blockage to break, he would want Ivan to kiss him breathless.

Instead he thrived on the thrill of sneaking away into the night, of capturing true baddies by the collar. Ivan’s name and fame diminished under the guise of Alfred’s heroic antics until he was nothing but a memory. Alfred couldn’t possibly imagine being content with people forgetting about his existence, but Ivan couldn’t care less. Said it only aided him in achieving his goal. Sadly, Alfred hadn’t foreseen everything.

It happened one non-particular Friday evening, when instead of going away with Ivan he was invited to dinner over at his brother’s place. Matt and Gilbert were celebrating their two-year anniversary, and of course Alfred was the first the join in with the festivities. However, after some glasses of wine and banter about the reality of zombie apocalypse games, Matthew got oddly inquisitive.

“Say Alfred, I haven’t hear anything about Ivan lately. What’s that all about?”

Alfred, more than a little intoxicated himself, waved his hand in dismissive gesture, drink all but spilling from his glass as he swayed it around. “Oh that, I got him to stop a looooooong time ago bro, don’t worry about that.”

Gilbert was singing a song as he put their plates in the kitchen, but Matthew frowned through his daze. “What do you mean? You put him to jail without anyone noticing? Usually when you catch a bad guy the media’s the first to know about it!” If one thing, Matthew never got less articulate when he was buzzed, only a little more loose or – if the situation called for it – a little more open about his thoughts.

“Pssssht, you worry too much bro!” Alfred laughed, twinge of nervousness suppressed by a veil of alcohol.

Matthew frowned into his glass, radar work of his brain a tad slow but still working as hard as it could. Gilbert came in with dessert, Alfred howling appreciatively. But before he was allowed his share of cake, Matthew suddenly grabbed him by the wrist.

“Ow! What the hell Mattie, let me eat my-“

“Alfred. You… You didn’t put Ivan in jail, did you?”

Alfred frowned, unsure what the other was getting at. “…So?”

“Then what did you do with him?”

Under different circumstances he could have conjured up a lie of some sorts. Not now. Still caught in Matthew’s hold, he half-shrugged. “Does it matter bro? As long as he ain’t killing people no more, he’s no threat!”

Matthew’s grip grew painful, Alfred squirming around uncomfortably. “You know where he is, don’t you? You know where he is and you’re not handing him over to the police.”

“Whatever!” Alfred burst through his brother’s unending line of questions, throwing his hands up in the air and out of Matthew’s grasp. “Does it even fucking matter?! As long as he ain’t hurting anyone, does it-“

“He killed people Alfred. You know that better than anyone else. He can’t escape justice.”

“But maybe he had a good reason to!”

“What on earth would be a good reason to rob people of their lives?”

“I’m not saying it was a good thing to do but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s evil!”

“Murderers _are_ evil Alfred!”

“Well then maybe not all evil is the same!”

Gilbert sat frozen between the two bickering brothers, gaping open-mouthed at the way their faces contorted into angry sneers. Matthew was leaning heavily over the table, lips drawn back in a furious hiss, while Alfred was practically flexing his muscles as he leant back in his chair. “…Anyone want cake?” he tried, but it was in vain.

“Why are you protecting him Alfred? Why?!”

“I ain’t protecting him!”

“Bullshit!”

“No! He’d only need my protection if he really was evil, but he’s not! He’s actually quite a good guy! Okay he killed a few but-“

“Alfred, you actually like him?!”

Alfred stuttered, wanted to deny all accusations, but the blush spilling faintly onto his features betrayed his true feelings. Matthew was absolutely astonished for a full minute, Gilbert not sure whether he should try and joke away the weird atmosphere or comfort his lover. Then, Matthew shot out of his chair, walked around the table and roughly pulled Alfred up.

“Hey, what are ya doin’?!”

“Clearly you can’t think straight, so I’m taking you to Ivan right now.”

“The hell?! Why?”

“Because we’re going to arrest him.”

“No way.”

“Yes way. You’ve somehow convinced yourself to like a murderer. The only way to get rid of those, those… delusions, is by getting rid of the source. Ivan’s going to jail. Killers deserve to go there.”

“No- Mattie, let go.”

“It’s for your own good Al.”

“No- LET GO!”

He hadn’t meant to do it, he really hadn’t. It was out of pure frustration that he swung his hand up. He wasn’t aiming for Matthew at all, never would think himself capable of the act. Which is why the sound of skin slapping together sent a weird monotone peep to his ears. Eyes widening, he could only watch as Matthew’s hands shot up to cover his cheek, figure crippling and hunching as he slowly sunk to the ground, knees hugged tightly to his body. He couldn’t believe this was happening.

Chair scraping back, Gilbert was at Matthew’s side in an instant. He was saying something, probably telling Matthew it wasn’t that bad and that he should put some ice on it, but the words didn’t register with Alfred. Blood was pumping in his ears, vision black at the edges. He had never hit Matthew before. Never, not once in his lifetime. Not even when they were kids, when roughhousing was a part of daily exercise, he never hit Matthew. Never.

Finally, when the ice holding him back seemed to melt, he shot to action. Kneeling down next to Matthew, he held his hands out, moved them in the air, unsure where to place them. “Oh God Mattie I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to, please don’t be- I, I’ll get you some ice, please be-“

“…Get out.”

Alfred hackled, choking on his own spit. “W-what?”

Matthew’s head snapped up, look in those gentle eyes both fierce and cold. “Get out Alfred. Now. Before I do things I’ll regret.”

Alfred wanted to protest, but Gilbert slowly shook his head at him, a silent request to leave Matt alone for a while. Alfred deflated, nodding once. He stood on wobbly legs and left, hoping some time alone would heal the wound he had inflicted- and not just the physical one.

* * *

He shouldn’t be calling Ivan right after this. He shouldn’t feel the need to be with him. Ivan was the source of the problem, just like Matthew had said. He knew that all too well. Ivan may not necessarily be evil, he was still a very morally ambiguous man. Not the kind of guy good-natured people should be hanging out with. Because of Ivan he had left the path of pure virtue, had begun doubting his actions, had struck Matthew. Because of Ivan he could no longer imagine himself roaming the streets alone, heart aflutter every time he met up with the other.

When exactly did he realize he had fallen for Ivan? Maybe he’d known all along, maybe it happened the first time he pleasured himself to the thought of those leering amethysts. It didn’t matter- he could never be with Ivan that way. It was the least he could do to protect himself from further harm. Being with Ivan had no future, no good outcome. It would be sneaking about, a mere thrill-seeking. A mere temporary fling.

Which is exactly why his fingers pounded in that already familiar number. Ivan didn’t question the strange hour of his calling, simply told him he would arrive shortly. It was only after opening the door to that dishevelled coup of platinum that Alfred realized he’d never had Ivan in his house before.

Ivan took small interest in the room, couch having a definite Alfred-shape melted into it, lack of a kitchen only separated by a crate which could have been called a table. Alfred didn’t live the luxurious life, despite earning enough. Most of his money went to video games and good food, not furniture.

“What is wrong?” Ivan asked after being seated with a glass of cola, which he casually spiked with a hint of vodka.

“Why would anything have to be wrong?” Alfred asked, Ivan sending him a look that only proved he eyed quite befuddled. Patting the empty space next to him, those usually mocking eyes were friendly as he invited him over. Who knew Ivan had it in him to show such normal emotions?

Alfred hesitated, then sauntered over like a cautious animal, eyes cast down when his rear hit the cushions. Ivan’s smile was open, asking wordlessly for him to tell his story. Alfred couldn’t look at him, folding and unfolding his hands in his lap, suddenly afraid his body would betray how much their closeness was affecting him. He’d never known about that unconscious need to lay his head on someone’s shoulder, but there it was, and he simply had to think over and around it.

“I… I had a fight with my brother.”

“Ah, Matthew?”

Alfred wanted to frown, but pouted instead. “I’d ask you how you know, but then I’d just be repeating earlier conversations.”

“Clever boy. Why did you fight?”

Alfred shuffled around, toes curling inside his grey woollen socks. A gift from Mattie, he now realized, making the situation even more awkward.

“About uh, about you.” As soon as he said it, he could feel his ears flushing red. Okay, this was far more embarrassing now that he thought about it. Maybe inviting Ivan over was the worst thing he possibly could have done, maybe it would be the death of him.

Ivan paused, then slowly set his drink aside. Alfred panicked at the deliberate movements, his story spilling from his mouth like a tidal wave.

“Matt- he knows, that I’m not planning to bring you to court. I don’t think he knows we’re actually teaming up, or maybe he does, but then he’d probably have killed me even more. But he kept calling you a murderer, and I know that technically you are, but he just made so, so angry, and I- I hit him. I didn’t want to, but I hit him, and God you should’ve seen the look on his face, like I was betraying him. I’m never gonna forget about that look. But this- what we’re doing is wrong right? Or not? I don’t know anymore Ivan, I’m all confused and maybe I should just stop trying to be a hero because I clearly ain’t one, because who the fuck ever heard of heroes sneaking through the night with someone who’s known to the public as a villain, and-“

His breath broke in a surprised sob when an arm firmly pressed him to a broad chest. His cheek was stuffed against the soft fabric of a knitted pullover, perhaps something Ivan had made himself. The angle was a bit awkward, his figure bent to the side in an odd crook, glasses digging into his flesh. But then Ivan put his other arm around Alfred as well, tucked the smaller man’s head against his neck to the nice scent of his scarf, and when those hands began rubbing soothing circles Alfred felt himself trembling.

“I am sorry for putting you through this, dorogoy. You are free to leave any time if that would make you feel better. Just let me do the work, and I promise to keep quiet and not make my actions known. I won’t be a bother to you, and I can slip away once my work is done.”

Alfred chewed his lips, question burning his tongue and finally his lips as the air was forced out of him.

“So… you’re gonna leave once your work here is done? Just like that?”

The words had been a bit muffled by Ivan’s clothes, but he heard them nonetheless. Gently tucking his callused finger pads under Alfred’s chin, he tilted his head up. Alfred shivered at the way those eyes studied him, lips sealed tightly.

A thumb began stroking his cheekbone, Alfred feeling a blush forming underneath. He couldn’t have looked away even if he wanted to.

“Would you miss me?” Ivan muttered, long eyelashes stroking his porcelain cheeks. Alfred swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing against the knuckles resting to his throat. He couldn’t answer, left speechless by the invisible bridge of electricity buzzing between their faces.

So close. Too close.

He shouldn’t want to kiss a killer. It wasn’t just morally ambiguous, it was plain wrong. Good or bad, or something in between, murder was murder.

But when the other still hadn’t moved in after several moments of staying so close, an involuntary whine gurgled out of him. A soft keening noise, something begging to be touched, caressed and held, something needing intimacy and tenderness. He was the Iron Eagle, protector of the helpless, college student who loved weight lifting and video games about war. But right now he didn’t feel powerful at all, moment of breaking growing closer the longer he couldn’t feel those lips upon his own. He didn’t know if he’d be able to handle rejection right now, not his pride, nor his heart.

Which is maybe why it was better that they were interrupted by someone bursting through the door.


	11. Third Parties and Party Crashers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The villain goes to jail while the hero goes free.  
> I wish it were that simply for me.”  
> -David Crosby

“Alfred did what?!”

Matthew frowned deeply as he kept his eyes locked on the table, not looking up to see his friends gaping in astonishment.

“I can’t believe he’d do that…” Elizabeta whispered, shaking her head.

“Surely he’s lost his mind?” Roderich added with disapproving voice, shuffling about uncomfortably in his chair.

Elizabeta and Roderich were old friends of Gilbert’s, dating back from way before Matthew first met the albino. They were in a sort of on-off relationship, even had some history with Gilbert himself, but Matthew rather stayed out of that one.

“You know Alfred loves being the hero,” Gilbert said, leaning forward on the table. “Kid’s done some stupid things here and there, but he has his heart in the right place. He always knew what was good and bad. True, not all his ‘villains’ are actually bad…” He smirked, his friends giving each other a meaningful look. “But a straight-out murderer? I never thought someone like him would be the one to have Alfred lose his sense of justice.”

Matthew didn’t join in, rubbing at the big bruise covering his cheek. A reminder of his brother’s betrayal… True, Matthew had always told Alfred not to be so quick to judge. Heck, he was in a relationship with one of Alfred’s ex-enemies! (How his brother had never noticed the similarities, he would never know, but they’d tell him some day. When he was ready.) But it was like Gilbert said; Ivan was a murderer. If that didn’t make him a villain, then what did?

The four remained quiet for a little while, before Elizabeta slammed her hand down on the table, startling her sort-of boyfriend into jumping out of his chair.

“So,” she said, eyes glinting mischievously, “what are we going to do about it?”

“What are you getting at?” Gilbert asked, leaning in when she smirked widely.

“Alfred’s sense of judgement has been blurred. He can’t think clearly. Ivan has made him think murder can be forgiven if done with the right intentions. Knowing Alfred, he is just going to keep hanging out with him, until maybe he himself starts committing murder. It’s a very plausible future.”

Matthew cringed. No, not Alfred. Surely he had killed before, but never on purpose. He’d always felt extremely bad at having to rob someone from their life. Alfred, a cold-blooded killer… It was too terrifying a thought to consider.

“So I say we go capture Ivan instead.”

“Eliza,” Roderich chided, “that’s preposterous. We’re not part of the police, nor do we have superpowers.”

“We do have equipment!” she laughed, “and we have Gilbert. You used to train Alfred, right dear? And I know you still have some stuff from your old ‘hobby’ lying around. Don’t deny it.”

Gilbert put his hands behind his head and shrugged. “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. But if this Ivan guy is really clever enough to persuade someone who has as naïve a world view as Alfred, then maybe he’s a little too dangerous for one Mr Awesome, one guy whose only form of attack is playing music until my ears bleed, and a girl who… Okay, you might stand a chance against him. He’d probably be terrified of your skillet.”

He ducked when she flung her tea cup at his head, but Gilbert couldn’t respond. Because suddenly, Matthew was standing up, and everyone went quiet as they looked up at him.

“I’m coming too. Alfred is my brother and… and he’s always been there to protect me, now I want to protect him. Ivan is dangerous.” He balled his hands to fists. “We can’t let Alfred get hurt. Even if… even if it means breaking his heart.”

He still had doubt, but knew it was for the best. For the greater good of Alfred’s future, his mental health, and most importantly, his innocence. The one thing that both annoyed Matthew, and which he found to be one of Alfred’s greatest assets. How despite dealing with criminals on a daily basis, of getting into fights and seeing blood and drugs and all things bad, Alfred was still able to see the beauty of life. He hadn’t been jaded by all those bad things, hadn’t lost hope. Ivan was turning him into someone much more realistic, but also much less… much less Alfred. It pained Matthew to see his brother stray from who he once were. He didn’t want Alfred to grow up, at least not just yet. Not if it meant seeing the ‘positive’ side of crime.

Not if it meant Alfred was able to punch his own brother in the face, whether on accident or not.

The three others remained silent, until Gilbert smirked. “Of course you’re coming, Vögelchen. After all, _protecting_ Alfred was your idea.”

* * *

“Why did you turn off your tracker you idiot? We have to be able to contact you 24/7, you said so yourself.”

“Well apparently it did not make much of a difference, since you found me either way,” Ivan responded in a dangerously sweet hum.

Alfred’s eye twitched, ears a permanent red. Sitting on his counter was the weirdest most extravagant man he had ever met. Long legs fitting in tight pants with something resembling a skirt topping it off, open blouse showing a bare chest, hands delicately working at long nails as green eyes under a blond coup held the utmost boredom. The man had introduced himself as Feliks, or rather Ivan had introduced him while the intruder commented on Alfred’s lack of style and the pile of filthy dishes.

“Why are you here again?” the young hero asked, voice sounding both defeated and frustrated. Defeated, because there was no denying his attraction for the Russian now, not anymore. Frustrated, because now that he _did_ acknowledge it, he didn’t want shady men walking in on him just when they were about to kiss. It was embarrassing, and more importantly, extremely confronting. Especially when the man in question had cocked his eyebrow at his wantonly flushed face and said something along the lines of “Get a room,” only much more vulgar. And when Alfred had informed him that this was in fact very much his own room, the blond had merely rolled his eyes and continued onwards.

“Because!” Feliks said in an irritated voice, waving a long-nailed hand. “Because Braginsky can’t keep to the rules we set up, and-“

“Who is we?”

“Me, Ivan and Yao,” Feliks huffed without missing a beat, Ivan giving him an angry glare.

“You should not give out such information so readily,” he hissed through clenched teeth, but the other shrugged.

“What? Your boyfriend can’t know who he’s working with?”

“I’m not his boyfriend,” Alfred said, exactly at the same moment Ivan intervened with a rushed “He is not working with us, but with me.”

“Whatever,” Feliks drawled. “Anyway, since you turned off your tracker I couldn’t contact you, so I just had to go to the one place you’d be. Which is here, with your not-boyfriend.” He put extra emphasis on the word, making steam pour from Alfred’s reddened ears. “And the thing I came to tell you is… Oh, what was it again- ah! Right. Someone raided your place.”

“Chto?” Ivan instantly rose to full height, expression alarmed. Alfred felt himself copy his movements, heart pounding. Someone had broken in at Ivan’s house? In _his_ city? Right under his very nose? That just wasn’t acceptable. More importantly, who’d do such a thing? Did they know it was Ivan living there, or had they just found an abandoned room with some useful gadgets? Were they specifically targeting the Russian or was it plain dumb luck?

“Did they take anything?” Alfred asked sharply, leaning over the table.

The man shrugged. “Yao says they didn’t. Just thrashed the place up real good, you know? Like they were looking for something, but couldn’t find it. Or looking for someone.” He gave Ivan a pointed look, which was answered by a steadily deepening frown.

“Do you have any clue who did it?” Alfred asked, not happy with these developments, not at all. He sent a glance to Ivan, but the other was still deep in thought.

“…No,” he allowed after some time, but Alfred wasn’t quite sure he meant it. “Either way, if they know where I live, I cannot go back there. Too great of a risk.”

“You can’t go come live with me,” Feliks instantly replied. “We agreed on that; stay separated, diminish the chance of someone taking down all three of us at once. And you-“ He pointed a finger at Alfred’s freckled nose. “You didn’t hear anything about that.”

“But I did, and Ivan can crash here if he wants to,” Alfred immediately replied. It was his defiant nature coming up, ever stubborn, ever fighting. Only realizing just what he had proposed when he found violet eyes curiously staring at him. “I-I mean,” he quickly set to explain himself, “At least for tonight. On the couch. Can’t just have you sleeping under a bridge somewhere, right? Someone will recognize you, my name will be blemished, you’ll be brought to the police or worse. That’s not what you want, right?” _Please say yes_ , he thought _, this is awkward enough as it is._

Another heartbeat of silence, and finally Ivan smiled. “You heard him, Feliks. I spend the night here, and tomorrow we will go look for the perpetrator. All three of us-“

“Four.” Ignoring the raised eyebrows, Alfred stepped forward. “If there’s someone after your skin, they’re a criminal just as much, and must be punished likewise. Count me in.” His tone left no room for objection. He got none.


	12. No Rest for the Wicked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Is it better to out-monster the monster or to be quietly devoured?”  
> -Friedrich Nietzsche

Ivan was asleep on his couch. He had wanted to go out at first, but Alfred had insisted he rested up before they left on their mission. Feliks had occupied the bathroom for whatever reason, and Alfred was more than happy to keep him there.

Ivan looked so much more peaceful when he was asleep. More vulnerable, less troubled. Alfred’s eyes dropped inevitably to those slightly parted lips, from which a lightly distorted breathing could be heard. They had almost kissed again. Ivan was asleep now. He just had to bent over to…

The sound of paper flying under his door made the little hairs in his neck stand on edge. Whirling around, Alfred was immediately on the alert. There was indeed a small white square lying in front of his door.

Grabbing a gun in one hand, Alfred  cautiously snuck toward it. Was it a challenge? Just a simply note from one of his college friend? A secret love letter from Mei? It turned out to be none of those. When Alfred used the his socked toes to flip the paper over, he only saw a few words.

_I’ll be watching you._

Shooting up, Alfred wasted no time in running to the door. If he was fast, he could still catch whoever had delivered this note to him! However, when he flung the door open, he found someone else already standing there. Matthew still had his hand raised in the air as if he had been about to knock, and looked utterly surprised to be faced with his brother (even though this was Alfred’s house).

“Mattie? What are you doing here?” He leant out of the doorway for a moment, glancing down the empty hallway. Not a signal of life, which meant that the writer of the note had already fled the scene.

“I’m here to see _him,_ ” Matthew answered in a much too cool, much too sober voice. Alfred’s head snapped back at the used tone, expression dropping remorsefully.

“Look Matt, if this is about yesterday, I want you to know that I-“

Matthew shook his head, successfully cutting his brother off. “I’m not here to talk about that.” He looked over the other’s shoulder, scraped his throat, and raised his voice. “Braginsky? I know you’re in there.”

Alfred flushed pink. “How did you-“ Rustling, the sensation of a looming presence right behind. He could almost perfectly picture the look on Ivan’s face.

“You called?” the man purred, sounding far too smug for someone who had been asleep until a moment ago. Which meant he had been awake. Good thing Alfred hadn’t voiced any of his secret desires. Or perhaps Ivan already knew…

Matthew narrowed his eyes and bravely looked up. “I have come to challenge you. We versus you villains. Tonight at you know where.”

Both Ivan’s grin and Alfred’s eyes widened considerably. “Wait wait- Mattie, you wanna fight him?”

Matthew sent him a leer before continuing. “If we win, you leave and never come back. You leave me brother alone. If you win… I will give up trying to stop you.”

No. No no no, he did _not_ want his brother to fight his… “Matt, have you gone insane? You can’t fight this guy! You-“

Ivan pushed past him, placing a hand threateningly above his brother’s head. However, there was also a sort of familiar mirth speaking from his appearance. “Challenge accepted, kotyonok.”

Matthew nodded, and made to leave.

“Wait!” Alfred protested. He lunged forward to try and grab his brother’s hand, but Matthew sent him such a cold glare that he froze in his steps.

“This is for your own good Alfred. If you’re not going to make the right decisions, then I will make them for you. And I trust that by tonight, you have figured out which side you should be on.”

And Matthew left, and Alfred was left behind with the feeling like his heart just fell through the bottom of his stomach. Ivan patted him softly on the shoulder.

“I am going home to prepare. Feliks!”

Ivan’s blond “friend” finally popped out of the kitchen, cupcake between his teeth.

“We are leaving. And Alfred…” He bent over to place a goodbye kiss at the American’s cheek. “I will see you tonight. Do not worry, everything will be all right.”

As the two left, Alfred was still staring at the wall opposite of him, unseeing.

* * *

Two groups of fighters had gathered in the middle of what was known as The Pit. It was a huge construction site, abandoned two years ago after an accident. While court kept dragging its investigation, the locals used The Pit for whatever means they deemed it fitting.

Three men were on the right, three and a woman on the left. Matthew had never felt his heart beat so anxiously as it was doing now, and yet… And yet Alfred was nowhere in sight.

“This ends now!” he shouted in shaky voice across the empty spaces. Ivan was casually polishing his beloved faucet, Feliks and the mysterious Yao standing by his sides with expressions like they were paying the dentist an obliged annual visit.

“You know it is not ending,” Ivan chuckled, sending the other a knowing leer. “More will come after me. Perhaps worse.” He deemed his pipe ready, tucking away the cloth as he pointed it at the trembling blond. “Perhaps a _true_ villain may be released upon this city.”

“Shut up,” Matthew growled back, hands tightened around the hockey stick he was protectively holding in front of him. “None of this would be happening if you just hadn’t gone after my brother! What are you planning with him anyway?!”

Ivan’s expression darkened, mouth forming a thin line. “…You wanted a battle, if I remember correctly?”

Feliks rolled his eyes and stepped forward. “Yeah, enough talk! I have an appointment with the hairdresser and I am not missing it simply because someone doesn’t agree with the way we work! Yao, you ready?”

The Chinese finished writing a text message, after which he sighed. “I was ready long ago, but because of all that talking I got busy again. Now can we finish this? Some of us have to work!”

Matthew growled, motioning for his team to get ready as well. Gilbert, Roderich and Elizabeta were all donned in handmade costumes. Gilbert even had his own outfit back on, the last time he wore it already seeming so long ago…

“I’m going to teach you not to mess with my brother,” Matthew whispered, before surging forward to strike the first blow.

* * *

Alfred was running, heart thumping in his throat. He hoped with his entire being that he wasn’t too late to stop them. For once in his lifetime, he had chosen not to participate in a fight. Not because he was suddenly a pacifist, or got queasy at the thought of violence, but…

Because despite knowing fully well that he should stand by his brother, his friends and family, those who wanted to protect the city… There was something nagging at the back at his head. A gnawing feeling wanting to make its presence known. As if there was something else, something worse, to be paying attention to.

If Ivan really was as bad as Matthew thought, then why didn’t he just kill him when he came to challenge him? If Alfred really was the hero he claimed to be, then how could he still have doubts? If there were no true villains, then had he been sending innocent people to justice all those years? Could Ivan’s actions really be justified? And who had raided the other’s home yesterday? Were they to be labelled a villain?

So many questions, and yet his mind could provide no answers.

His wings were bouncing against his back as he ran. He had contemplated the option not to put on his uniform, since this was _Alfred_ going out to stop his brother and… whatever Ivan was to be called, before they made a grave error. But the uniform was all he had, all he had ever known. Ever since Matthew had given it to him. He needed it.

Shouts could be heard, and his heart skipped a beat. Was he already too late…?

Climbing on top of a car, he could finally see what was happening in The Pit. People fighting, so lost in combat that they were almost unrecognizable. But no, there was Ivan, his pale figure clearly distinguished in the heat of the battle. And there was his brother-

“Hey! Stop!” He tried to shout over the ruckus, but his voice couldn’t carry far enough. He would have to get in there and stop them himself, before anyone could get hurt.

Sliding from the roof of the car, he sprinted forward, adrenaline urging him in. Almost there…

“Oof!”

The air was knocked out of him as a body collided with his own, dragging them both to the ground. Alfred couldn’t tell if it had been intentional, or if the other had been pushed. He struggled to get free, the only important thing being his brother right now. When he felt the other roll off, he was about to get up and continue on his way… Until he saw who exactly was lying next to him.

A piercing red costume, a giant A sown into the front… Mr Awesome! He had returned! But how? Alfred swore he had turned him in, and last time he saw him the man had been on his way to a life sentence in jail…

The other coughed, opening his eyes. Alfred felt a second spark of recognition. Mr Awesome didn’t have that eye colour… Unless he had used contacts all that time. A hand shot up, and pulled off the mask.

“Gilbert?”

Two crimson eyes stared up at him in alarm, being caught red-handed. It was then that Alfred heard the words flying from Ivan and his brother’s mouth.

“If you are dissatisfied with the way we work, I will have to remind you that we still have a contract!”

“The contract didn’t say anything about you buttering up my brother!”

The return of Mr Awesome, something about a contract…

“What the hell is going on here?!”


	13. A Card Well-Played

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I have never met any really wicked person before. I feel rather frightened. I am so afraid he will look just like every one else.”  
> ― Oscar Wilde

The battle had stilled, most looking at Alfred with expressions that betrayed their guilty consciousness. He himself was seething; not only were they all fighting with each other, but apparently, they were all in on something he had only to grasp at. Looking straight at his brother, he took a step closer.

“Mattie? What’s going on here? Why is Gilbert one of my old enemies, and what’s this contract you guys were talking about?”

Matthew’s look was one of stubborn defiance, while Ivan had a sort of calm resignation hanging about him, as if he knew this had been coming. “Go on, Matthew. Your brother has asked you something.”

“I’m not talking to you!” Alfred snapped at him, feeling disillusioned about the man standing before him. Had Ivan really been playing him all along? Just like his brother had said- or maybe because his brother had said it? For apparently, the two knew each other a lot better than Alfred ever had thought.

“I only did it for your own good, Alfred,” Matthew muttered, putting on a pleading expression instead.

“Did what?!” the blond demanded, wanting answers, and wanting them _right now_.

“Alfred…” Gilbert tried to pipe in, but Alfred shook his head. He needed to hear this from Matthew, his own flesh and blood, the one person he’d trusted above all others, for so many years. He had felt guilty about breaking that trust when he chose to defend Ivan, but now he just felt confused and angry, and above all, betrayed.

“Start talking.”

Matthew bowed his head, an almost pained frown scrunching his brow, and let his lips move.

“I only did what I did to protect you. When you decided you wanted to be a superhero… I didn’t want you to fight fights that would get you killed. I didn’t want you to get hurt. So I… I hired a few people.”

Alfred took another step closer, disregarding the worried look donning Gilbert’s face. “You did _what_?”

Matthew looked him straight in the eye. “All those villains you fought? Mister Awesome, and all the others? I hired them to keep you busy. So you’d have the time to feel as good about yourself as you could, without actually getting hurt, and without hurting anyone else. To keep you safe from harm, but also not hold you down. Because I know you wouldn’t listen to me if I asked you to stop.”

Alfred’s head was spinning. “No- they were real criminals, they-“

“Killed people?” Ivan said in a soft tone, accompanied by an eerie giggle. “You underestimate your dearest brother, dorogoy. No one was killed.” He smirked as he looked at Matthew, who seemed about ready to cut the other’s throat. “They were all actors. Each and every single one of them. Working under a contract.”

Alfred felt like throwing up. Everywhere he looked, he could see faces staring at him- one of his best friends, Roderich and Elizabeta, the two henchmen of Ivan’s, his own brother-

“You too?” he asked, turning to the Russian. That smug smirk disappeared in a flash.

“No.”

“Liar,” Alfred growled. “If even my own brother’s a fucking liar, then you’re the worst of them all!”

“Nyet, that is not the way it is,” Ivan pressed on, taking a step forward, to which Alfred reacted by flinching back.

“Don’t come near me. Or your next trip to the hospital won’t be part of some _play_ -“ He looked once again at Matthew, eyes filled with hurt. “You let me fight people I thought were evil. You let me think I was punishing murderers.”

“Al-“

“How could you do that to me?!”

“Alfred.” Ivan stepped forward, grabbing his wrists despite the warning. “I meant it when I talked about my reasons for coming here. The only thing I lied about was the fake deaths I had to make seem real for your brother. But there was one thing he had not counted on.”

“The fact that you’re a fucking asshole maybe?” Alfred spit, struggling against the other’s grip.

“No,” Matthew growled, narrowing his eyes at the so-called villain. “The fact that he didn’t surrender to you like he was supposed to, but that he actually tried to make you think about your actions.” Matthew found his fire again, fully turning to face Ivan. “You were supposed to help protect Alfred from the real evil of this world, and what did you do?! You got close to him, started planting doubts and bad ideas in his head, and worst of all, you actually got him to care for scum like you!”

It was too much. Ivan, Matthew, everything he had ever known… All lies. Filthy, weak lies, and for what? To protect him? He was supposed to be the one protecting! How were lies going to prepare him for the outside world, how was any of this right?

“I hate you. I hate all of you.”

“Alfred…”

“No, Mattie. I, Ii really can’t talk to you right now. You lied to me. You treated me like some dumb kid who doesn’t know what’s right and wrong.”

_He wasn’t going to start a fight, he was going to keep calm._

“How can I ever trust you again?”

His eyes were foggy for some reason. Blinking, he tried to clear his vision.

“So this fight-thing, it was just because you were mad at Ivan for breaking the contract? No one was actually going to kill each other? Were you the one that raided his apartment too? Should I be turning _you_ in to the police instead?”

Matthew shook his head, frowning. “Raided his apartment? Alfred, I admit, it was wrong of me to lie to you, and I deserve it if you’re mad at me-“ Even though it pained him to think about it… “-but I’d never commit any real crimes… I don’t even know where he lives.”

Matthew hadn’t… Then who-

An ominous giggle.

“Oh boo, the fun is over. Time for some rest then.”

Before anyone could react, cans were suddenly flung at their feet, exploding into a strange gas.

“What’s happening?!” Alfred yelled over the screams and panicked voices, but the moment he breathed in the strange substance, he could feel himself growing tired. Limbs shutting down, vision growing black…

‘ _Dammit,_ ’ he thought, before his knees buckled under his weight.

* * *

Alfred woke up to a wailing headache and much too bright lights.

“What happened,” he groaned, clutching his head. Or, at least, attempting to, until he found his hands bound together. Memories flooding back all at once, his eyes snapped open, scrunched shut against the harsh light, and then opened again, slower this time.

They were all here, Ivan, Matthew, Gilbert, Feliks… And for some reason, they were all tied to a chair, and behind bars.

Okay, first things first. No need to panic. Where was here?

Looking up and around, stretching his body back as far as it could, he established they were probably underground. No windows, fluorescent lights hanging from a grey ceiling, concrete walls and flooring, a mouldy scent permeating the air.

Next up. Who was it that had brought them here?

Alfred remembered… a voice. A girl’s voice, at that. High-pitched and childlike. She hadn’t attempted to cover it up any way. Which meant… she was sure there was no way they could tell anyone about her identity after this, whatever this was. Which meant she had put them to sleep, captured them, and brought them here to do _something._ The only remaining questions were, why did she bring them here, and what was she planning to do?

With recent developments in mind, Alfred’s first thought was that she was another “friend” of Matthew’s. But then why would he be here too? Unless this was just another part of the big plan to deceive him… But no. Not even Matthew would go that far, would he? Then again, apparently he didn’t know his brother as much as he’d like to admit…

No. He did know Matthew. Even his lies- Alfred could see where they were coming from, what part of his personality had brought those about. Matthew was kind and caring, wild and dangerous when it came to hockey, a bit overprotective of him, and good at hiding his true feelings. Those elements combined fit the picture of this deception exactly. Which of course, didn’t mean that Alfred could have possibly seen it coming, or that he was happy Matthew cared so much for him that he’d lie to his face to such a degree. But it did explain how it could have happened.

Still, Alfred didn’t think Matthew had any part of this. He had been too busy thinking about his fight with Ivan, why would he set this up as well? As a back-up plan, in case Alfred did show up at the Pit? No, there were too many holes for that to be the true reason as to why they were all here, tied up, most of them still unconscious. Speaking of the unconsciousness…

Alfred’s head snapped to the side when he could hear breathe in too deeply for a sleeping man (or woman). His eyes immediately locked with Ivan’s completely awake ones. He stared for a moment, before his surprised gaze turned into a glare.

“Good morning, asshole.”

Ivan frowned, but didn’t break eye-contact. He was either too embarrassed not to explain his actions, or otherwise, not embarrassed at all. Did he feel guilty or in his right? Was this the face of a stone-cold liar?

“Alfred.”

The corners of his lips stubbornly turned down at the mention of his name.

“Alfred,” Ivan spoke again, more urgent this time. “I understand you are mad at me for lying. And da, I am an asshole. Or I _was_. It was not my plan to…” He swallowed, but pressed on. “When your brother hired me, he knew nothing about my intentions, about my past. He did not know I despised heroes, or what they did to my sisters. I took him up on his offer, because I thought it to be the perfect opportunity to toy with another dumb self-proclaimed bringer of justice.”

He leant forward as far as his confines allowed. “But then I got to know you. I had planned on merely upsetting you, but then you began reacting. Actually thinking about the things I said. I saw that you weren’t merely your brother’s puppet, but a man with a voice and thoughts of his own and-“

Alfred didn’t want to hear it, but couldn’t cover his ears.

“I started caring about you.”

Now he was listening. Blue eyes widening, while still filled with distrust, he let them wander back to that much too serious expression. As if Ivan was really telling the truth.

“Alfred.” Softer now. “I wanted to tell you the truth, but I did not want to be the one to break the trust between you and your brother. I would do anything to protect my sisters, so I can understand why he did it. It was wrong of him, but he really does care for you.”

“And you do too?” Alfred implored, eyes searching for any sign of insincerity. “Or are you just saying that to further mess with me.”

“Alfred, I-“

He was cut off when a door flung open, rousing the others awake as well. That same high-pitched giggle set his hair on edge.

“Oh, mister Iron Eagle! You’re finally awake!”

Standing at the other side of the bars was a petite blonde with a pretty dress, smiling brightly at him.

“You know who I am?” Alfred asked. The others studied the girl from whichever angle they could, trying to get a grasp on the situation.

“Of course I do! Everyone in the whole town does!” She stepped forward, snaking her frail hands around the bars. “Oh, mister Iron Eagle, the people trust in you to catch the bad guys! You’re not going to stop doing that simply because some of them were actors, right? We need someone to believe in!”

“But, but…” Alfred wanted to explain to her that there was no use- he’d been chasing phantoms all along. However, a much more urgent question rose. “Wait… How do you know about that?”

She smiled, sugary sweet. Matthew gasped behind her.

“Wait, I know you! Lili Vogel, right?”

The girl’s expression remained the same, but Alfred noticed the slightest narrowing of eyebrows, hands tightening their grip.

“Who’s Lili Vogel?” Alfred wanted to know, keeping his eyes on her, as if she could turn into a vicious beast at any given time.

“She wanted to be part of it, she wanted a contract,” Matthew explained. “But I told her you’d never fight such a fragile girl, in fear of hurting her. I turned you down, Lili.”

“Yes you did,” she whispered, voice still innocently high and girly. “I have been watching you, mister Iron Eagle. I wanted to meet you in person, so I tried becoming one of your opponents. But they didn’t let me.” She smiled even brighter. “But now you’re here! And now I can help you.”

“Help me- with what? And why did you want to meet me?”

“Ugh, isn’t it obvious?” Feliks suddenly piped in. “I mean, look at her! She’s obviously like, a total fangirl. Gross.”

Alfred’s eyes widened in astonishment. He knew he’d gathered quite the amount of fans in all his years of being a superhero, but never would he have thought someone would go to these lengths just to meet him. But…

“Lili, why are we here? If you really did want to meet me, there were plenty of other ways.”

“Oh! But that’s where my help comes in!” She nodded enthusiastically. “You see, your brother, and that evil man over there, they hurt you, right? So I’ll help you with that!”

“And by ‘help’ you mean…”

Her smile grew wider still.

“Help you get rid of them of course!”


	14. Live and Let Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There are precious few at ease  
> With moral ambiguities  
> So we act as though they don't exist."
> 
> — The Wonderful Wizard Of OZ, Wicked

Lili Vogel was insane. That was the conclusion Alfred had come to. He was dealing with a madman. Or, mad girl, in this case.

He'd heard about crazy fangirls, but had luckily never experienced one himself. His fans were civil and nice, cheering him on when he caught a bad guy, not trying to bring justice to them themselves…

"Are you really saying you're going to kill everyone in this room beside me?" Alfred deadpanned, the notion sounding ridiculous even to his own ears. Even more so when Lili nodded excitedly.

"They'll never bother you again! Oh, and don't worry- those other guys you fought may have been actors, but there's still plenty of real criminals for you to go after!" She could barely contain her excitement, only further confirming Alfred's suspicions regarding her mental health.

"Killing people is bad," he reminded her. "Besides, you're just one small girl! You really think you can take on people the size of the Russkie-"

"Silly! I'm not alone. How could I have brought you guys here if I were?" She snapped her fingers, and immediately a couple of bulky man poured into the underground cellar. "Let's start with the one who hurt you the most," she said, nodding at the men to open the cage where Matthew was located.

Alfred could feel the blood drain from his face. "Wait, you're serious?! You're just kidding, right?"

Lili shook her head, smiling even as Matthew was roughly removed from his chair.

"Nope! Because you see Alfred, I'm the only one who's completely honest here! Oh, besides you, of course." And with another cutesy wave, she was off, the door slamming shut behind them.

* * *

"Mattie!"

Alfred was struggling wildly in an attempt to break free. Even if Matthew had lied to him, he was still his brother, and he had to save him! Lili may think she was helping him, but in this situation, she was the real villain. How had he ended up being acquainted to this many lunatics anyway?! Couldn't the world just stay simple, black and white, good and bad, with no surprises and difficulties?

"Quiet down," the man known as Yao snapped. "I cannot think with you whining!"

Alfred wanted to protest, but only then saw the expression on Ivan's face. He was staring up at an opening in the bars, wearing a contemplative expression.

"Ivan? What are you doing? You figured out a way to escape?" He was talking much too fast in his agitation, but he had no idea what they were going to do to his brother, and he needed out _now_!

"Da, hang on…" His brow scrunched together even further, but then he let out an exclamation of victory when his hands were suddenly freed. He flashed Alfred a knife Lili had apparently overlooked- she may be a big fangirl, but when it came to being a criminal mastermind she still had a lot to learn.

"Hang on, I will get us out of here," the man mumbled to himself, and even though Alfred really shouldn't be trusting him anymore after this, he felt his heart pounding in anticipation.

Ivan easily undid the lock with a bobby pin, opening the door. Meanwhile, Yao was already making great use of the ropes around his hands to clamber up the bars, slipping his flexible body through a gap at the top. In a matter of minutes, everyone was freed, and Alfred couldn't help himself when he flung himself into Ivan's arms for just a second.

"We have to save Mattie," he growled, going ahead, stomping the door down.

They ran down long hallways, not encountering any living beings. When Alfred looked left, he saw his friends, when he looked right, he saw those he should have been seeing as enemies, had his brother's plan worked out the way he wanted.

Who were the heroes, and who were the villains? Maybe they were all a bit of neither, and a bit of both. All he knew, was that right now, they were fighting for the same cause, and that was all that mattered.

He stomped open another door, finding himself in a large open room- was this a factory of sorts? In the middle, few figures were visible.

"Lili, let my brother go!"

The girl looked up, that innocently sweet smile still adorning her features. The burly men she'd hired, or knew, or _whatever_ , immediately shot to action at their arrival. They lunged forward, successfully blocking the way between Matthew and the others.

The only way through would be by using his fists. And he wasn't the only one who'd come to that conclusion.

"Leave my boyfriend alone!" Gilbert shouted as he jumped onto one of the men; Elizabeta helped Roderich out with another, Feliks showed a surprising amount of cleverness when he floored a guy without help, and Yao looked like a professional as he threw martial arts into the mix.

Alfred didn't hold back- of course, he wasn't aiming to kill, he simply wanted to get passed these guys, but that didn't mean they deserved having it easy when they were helping that crazy woman. But right when he had defeated someone and thought he could finally break through the barrier, he suddenly found someone coming full-speed at him. He braced himself for the impact and-

A metallic sound permeated the air as Ivan jumped forward, holding up his faucet to block the attack.

"What are you doing?" Alfred hissed, even as the other seemed highly preoccupied.

"What does it look like?! Go help your brother, he needs you more than these men do!"

Alfred opened his mouth, then closed it. He nodded, and left Ivan to take care of this opponent.

Almost there, he could already see the expression on Lili's face…

And then he saw the knife in her hand.

He skidded to a halt, eyes growing wide. The sounds of the fighting going on behind him grew distant. All he could see was that wicked girl, his brother, and the knife. Matthew had never looked so scared in his life.

"Don't come closer," Lili warned him. "Or his guts will spill."

"You're crazy!" Alfred countered. "And if you were really a fan of me, you'd know I wouldn't want innocent people to get hurt!"

"Is he really innocent though?" she asked, for the first time putting on a more serious expression, a cold glare much too uncharacteristic for such a sweet-eying girl. "He lied to you, tricked you, and betrayed your trust. Now he has to pay!"

"Lying to people isn't worse than killing them!" Alfred shouted, to which Lili reacted with a dry and humourless laugh.

"He is a traitor, and he has to be punished!"

And then she shoved the knife down.

As a child, Alfred had always thought that seeing someone you love die would result in the world slowing down, as if it acted solely to your own wishes. When he grew up, he found that death had no such effect on the physical laws of this earth. Time didn't slow down, the world didn't stop spinning.

It all happened in a flash, actions and happenings running through each other until they were one big blur.

Lili stabbed his brother. Matthew spat up blood. Somewhere in the room, someone screamed. The sound of a gunshot. Red and black covered his vision, and his own breathing whistled through his ears. Someone fell to the ground- it had to be Matthew, his twin, his only brother, the one who'd bake pancakes for him on sick days, whom he had helped to study for his chemistry finals, with whom he played baseball and hockey, who knew about all his birthmarks and how he could never grow a beard and hated Dora the Explorer.

But as he fell to his knees, blinking, disorientated, he could see Matthew still standing… Why? How?

Matthew's mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. Blood was spreading around the wound in his chest. And then he too, was falling.

Alfred surged forward, instinctively seeking to protect his brother from harm. He captured him, feeling his still warm body. His throat felt so extremely dry.

"Al…"

"Mattie, it's okay, I'm here. You're gonna be okay."

His eyes shot over the wound, and he strained his neck when looking back. "Somebody call an ambulance!"

"Alfred… I'm so sorry…"

"Sssh, it's okay Mattie. You don't have to talk right now, you just have to get better. A-and don't fall asleep on me, okay?"

A presence appeared behind him, but Alfred only had eye for his brother. He grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze.

"You're going to be okay, you hear me?!"

Matthew smiled. "I'm so… proud of you…"

And then he closed his eyes.


	15. The End of All Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The side of fairytales I don't like is that they always have happy endings, that there's just good and evil, and things are perfect. But life is a little more complicated, and that's what I try to teach my kids.”  
> -Angelina Jolie

Alfred looked at the bouquet of flowers in his hand. White trillium; one of Matthew’s favourites. Alfred himself was more fond of roses and daffodils, but this bouquet wasn’t his to have, so his opinion didn’t exactly matter.

Ivan appeared at the end of the hallway, a slow and slightly pulling limp to his thread, a can of coke in his hand. He came to stand before Alfred, holding the drink out to him. “You should drink this. Have you even drank anything since yesterday?”

Yesterday of course, was referring to the moment before the fight, the last possible moment Alfred could have had something to drink. They had yet to figure out how long they’d been unconscious in the basement of the factory Lili had brought them to; it could have been a couple of hours. Could have been just as well a day.

Alfred accepted the coke, but didn’t open it up. He wasn’t in the mood to wet his dry throat. There were more urgent matters on his mind. His expression was morose as he kept studying the bouquet, as if hoping some sort of revelation would suddenly blossom from the delicate flora. Ivan sat down beside him with a sigh.

“When are you allowed inside?”

“I’m waiting for the doctor. He should be here any moment now.”

Ivan nodded, and didn’t speak after. His lip was cut and his appearance perfectly dishevelled; results of the fight with Lili’s henchmen. The gun he had used to shoot her down was confiscated by the police. Ivan was going to be put on trial for this. It had been self-defence, and he had saved Matthew by doing so, but he still had a history with the police, not everyone having been informed that everything had been a sham. Alfred was going to help him in not getting the worst verdict. He owed Ivan that for saving his brother. Saving a beloved outweighed lying, at least in this situation.

Alfred knew the public still regarded the Siberian Grizzly as a villain, but he had already planned a press conference to finally tell everyone the truth. Not the truth of Matthew’s actions; he was just as protective of Matthew as his brother had been of him. Not everyone needed to know what he’d done, and that the people they had thought to be villains were simply actors hired by him. But they did have to know that Ivan wasn’t a villain, and that Alfred wasn’t fit to be their hero.

He was going to resign. His heroic career was ending tomorrow.

Oh, there were still real baddies to go after. The kind of criminals Ivan had come to seek out before being approached by Matthew. But after almost seeing his brother die… He didn’t think he could go through it again. Not as a hero, at least. He wanted to finish his studies, and help improve lives in other ways from now on.

He took a deep breath. The flowers smelled nice and fresh. Matthew was probably going to like them.

“Thank you, Ivan.”

The other looked at him in surprise, but didn’t say anything.

“For saving my brother.”

_Ah._

“Of course.”

Ivan had knowingly put himself in trouble by shooting her, fully aware of the repercussions he was bound to face. But that was the work of a hero, wasn’t it? To help those in need. To save those who needed and deserved to be saved.

To look through the grey, the black and the white, and try to do what was right.

Not for the fame, not for the money.

But for those who truly needed their help.

The doctor came out of the room, and Alfred quickly stood. The man smiled.

“Your brother is ready to see you now.”

∞

“Yes, that is correct. Ivan Braginsky is not a villain. He only went after criminals, and has therefor been a great help to my cause.”

“But he’s a murderer!”

“We have video footage to prove that he’s bad!”

“Throw him in jail!”

Alfred frowned. “If he’s a murderer, then so am I.”

This managed to shut them up for a while. The Iron Eagle, defender of their city, a murderer? No, it couldn’t be. But then, the Siberian Grizzly also…

Someone stepped forward, expression angry. “If he’s not a villain, then why are you resigning? Did he trick you into it?” This roused another bout of mindless chattering, like birds of prey jumping onto that opening all at once.

“No- Ivan didn’t do anything like that!” Alfred was getting frustrated. Why couldn’t they just believe him? Why did they have to point out a scapegoat to bestow all their hatred upon? Why did people either have to be perfectly good or scandalously evil? Was there absolutely no place for they who dwelled the in-between?

He growled. Apparently there was only one way of showing his intentions.

“Fine. You want to know what Ivan means to me, if he isn’t a villain? Why I’m absolutely sure that he’s not the criminal mastermind you all think he is? I’ll show you.”

He stepped down from the platform. Ivan was standing in between two officers, hands bound together. He quirked an eyebrow when that energetic blond came to stand before him.

“What are you doing, little eaglet?” he said, dry humour underlined with a tired sort of resignation, as if he had already accepted defeat and was ready to embrace his punishment with open arms. Alfred wasn’t going to let him, though.

“Something I should’ve done a long time ago.”

And then he roughly gripped the other by the collar, and pulled him down into a kiss. A _real_ kiss, this time. One that made his toes curl in delight, a sigh of satisfaction escape from his chapped lips, a _finally!_ written in his closing eyes.

The room was silent for almost a full minute.

Before it erupted into explosive sound.

∞

Matthew was getting better with each passing day. Several months had already passed since he was stabbed, but luckily no vital organs were pierced. He would be fine. Gilbert continued to act a bit sheepish around Alfred, not believing he had accepted the facts of their deception. And yes, Alfred did feel more apprehensive than he had before, but he also knew that he valued them too much to simply shut them out, especially after almost losing Matt. Thus he learnt to accept the facts, learnt to forgive them, especially after growing sick of hearing them tell him how sorry they were.

Alfred was in his final year of college- pharmaceutical sciences. He wanted to tackle diseases instead of villains from now on. At least diseases were more clear-cut. He refused to read the newspapers, refused to hear that old defiant voice of “I can catch the baddies faster than the police.” These were real criminals, and it wasn’t up to him to mess with them. Not anymore.

(The iron wings still shone silver where they hung stored away behind his clothes.)

After a long trial, it had turned out that Ivan didn’t have to go to jail. After all, if he went, Alfred had promised to plead guilty to all “murders” he himself had committed. And the people simply loved him too much to let such a thing happen. Bunch o’ hypocrites if you asked him.

_He wasn’t sure where the two of them stood in relation to one another, but they had plenty of time to figure that out now. Time, in the stolen hours between the end of class and the tender whisks of twilight, in the bits and pieces of information spoon-fed over lunches in the park, in the curious gazes and moments of melancholy and the way they unexplainably seemed to turn up at that one statue at the exact same moments, every sixth day of the week._

Heh.

Even in court, not everything was black and white. The innocent got evicted, criminals were sent free, lies were seen as truth.

He’d learnt his lesson. That didn’t mean he was going to stop all together to try and make this world a better place. But instead of forcing his ideals onto others, he was going to help them instead.

They were going to get there. Someday.

A world of trust, respect, without having to live in constant fear.

Oh, they were going to get there.

One step at a time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading this fic, and for leaving so much feedback. It’s been a lot of fun to ride, and I hope it was equally fun to read!


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